


The thousand lights behind your eyes

by cubpen



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso | Your Lie in April Fusion, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Chronic Illness, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Permanent Disability, Mutual Pining, No Actual Character Death, POV Multiple, Sick Character, Unreliable Narrator, Volleyball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-10-03 20:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 68,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10256780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cubpen/pseuds/cubpen
Summary: It was springtime when Iwaizumi Hajime got the fresh start he so desperately needed, as a new second year student at Aoba Johsai High School; springtime when a boy named Oikawa Tooru brought volleyball back into his life with a perfect jump serve.But, as always, seasons must change.Seijoh third years crossed with the love/friendship rectangle inYour Lie in April.There are NO character deaths.





	1. What'll you do to me

Sweat. The sound of shoes squeaking against the gym floor and the heft of a volleyball in his hand. Blood, shock, guilt, anger, hopelessness, running, running away...

 _So much for clearing my head_ , thought Hajime, as he jogged on the unfamiliar park path near Aoba Johsai High School. Memories and emotions swirled in his mind like the cherry blossom petals falling all around him. Hajime willed his legs to move faster; the rhythm of feet pounding on pavement increasing, needing to reach that point where the burn in his lungs and the stitch in his side erases everything else on his mind.

It didn't work.

Even when breathless and nearing exhaustion, Hajime still couldn't stop thinking about what club to join at his new school. Only after Hajime quit his old volleyball team did he realize how much of his life he had poured into the sport. The sport that made him feel invincible and proud. The same sport that he left behind forever, needed to get away from so badly that he begged his parents to let him transfer to this unfamiliar high school in the neighboring prefecture.

_Anything but volleyball. Maybe not even sports. I hear shogi is pretty fun. Just stop thinking about volleyball. Stop. No volleyball ever._

Then, out of nowhere, a voice: "O~kay everybody! Time to practice our serves!"

Hajime froze. Was that his imagination? No one else was on the jogging path. Brows furrowed, Hajime silently cursed his brain for coming up with yet another way to remind him about volleyball.

But the voice rang out again. "Well, just this once, Oikawa-san will show you how it's done!" Hajime frowned. No way would a figment of his imagination refer to themselves in the third person. And it was such a pompous yet _whiny_ voice ( _how is that even possible?_ ), a voice so obnoxious and clear and bright and... magnetic?

Hajime didn't know when he had started jogging again, only noticing his surroundings when the footpath led from the copse of cherry trees into a sunny meadow. Lush green grass as far as the eye could see and dandelions in bloom, so vibrant and saturated with color compared to the shade from which he had just emerged. But it was the scene unfolding in front of Hajime that made him stop dead in his tracks.

A boy about his own age, head bowed as if in prayer, touching his forehead to the volleyball he was holding. A group of little kids stood off to the side, chattering in excitement. Hajime could not see the boy's face, but then: a high, controlled toss. Long arms swinging back as lean but powerful legs moved to build momentum for a jump and _Oh, that jump_ , thought Hajime, as he watched from his place on the path opposite the boy about to serve. Hajime fumbled for his phone to capture this moment in his life when he saw perfection, a stranger's flawless jump serve reminding Hajime of the times when volleyball still stirred his heart and nourished his pride. The unknown boy's jump was the very definition of potential energy, his body arching back, torso twisting with right arm bent in preparation for a full swing at the ball—

The boy reached the apex of his jump, his body suspended at zero velocity for mere milliseconds before gravity took hold again. He whipped his arm at the ball, tilting his head down to look forward for the first time. Somehow, the two boys made eye contact. Hajime saw the volleyball player's face clearly for the first time, hair framing his features just so, eyes startlingly wide, cheeks slightly flushed. When Hajime pushed the shutter button on his phone, his only thought was

 _Beautiful_.

But the only thing the camera would capture was a white blur as the ball blasted way off course and slammed into Hajime's face.

Hajime found himself lying face up across the jogging path. He sat up but immediately threw out a hand to steady himself, head swimming from the impact with the ball and the ground. Something trickled from Hajime's nose. He tasted blood, vaguely registering that the ball must have slammed his phone into his face. After a few deep breaths, the world stopped spinning. Hajime felt someone at his side and turned to see _that_ boy kneeling beside him. For a moment Hajime thought he saw the same wide-eyed expression the boy had when they made eye contact during the serve. But it was gone in a flash, replaced by a mischievous grin and a wink.

"Oh, you're okay!" the boy chirped.

 _Oikawa_ , Hajime remembered. _Or, "Oikawa-san". Ugh. What an idiot._ Hajime took a big breath, taking a moment to try and control his anger and annoyance like he had been practicing over the past few months.

"Well, you look like the brawny, hardheaded type anyway! Of course you'd be okay."

"Oi, dumbass! Are you insulting me right after hitting me in the face?" Hajime regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Where did that come from? He hadn't lost his temper since...

Oikawa tilted his head, pouting. "I was giving _you_ a compliment!" He punctuated the "you" by poking Hajime in the shoulder a few times. Hard. Oikawa giggled.

Hajime snorted. This guy. A dumbass who reacts to strangers yelling at them by pouting and poking and giggling. It was kind of cute.

_Wait, what?_

"I'm Oikawa Tooru." Another wink. "And—"

"What the HELL was that?" yelled Hajime.

"Huh?" Oikawa had that wide-eyed look again, like when they made eye contact for the first time. But he quickly replaced it with an airy, nonchalant expression. "Oh, the serve. I just slipped a little! Happens even to the best, you know?"

"Do you. Have ANY idea. How irresponsible that is, huh? Hitting with that much power without control? You're setting a terrible example for those kids. What if you really hurt someone? Learn to play before showing off, dumbass!"

Even as he was shouting, Hajime felt a small tug in his chest at Oikawa's slowly falling expression. But, just as quickly as before, Oikawa switched from frown to smile in an instant. Hajime decided that he would rather see that smug, winking grin than this false, tight-lipped cheer. For some reason that train of thought made him angry too, but it subsided as he realized he had practically screamed at a stranger who happened to make a mistake. _Fucking hypocrite_ , Hajime thought, rage now directed at himself.

The silence had gone on for too long. Hajime needed to be calm. He needed to apologize to this person who was annoying, yes, but also faced Hajime's ranting head on and didn't retaliate or run off.

"Look, I—"

"Ah hey here are your friends gotta go bye now hope your phone's okay!" Oikawa exhaled in one breath before springing to his feet and jogging back to the group of kids. Guilt washed over Hajime as he berated himself for not apologizing.

"Oh? What's this?"  
"Can't you wait until school starts before you get beat up on the playground?"  
"Nah, Hajime wouldn't hurt a fly. Probably fell on his face."  
"Yeah, you're right. Hey your reflexes suck, Hajime."

Hajime looked up at the two boys standing over him, bantering: Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro, middle blocker and wing spiker, Hajime's best friends since they started playing volleyball together in elementary school. Hajime rolled his eyes at them but couldn't hold in a chuckle.

It had always been like this, pain and embarrassment dissolving into laughter and relief. Once, in elementary school, Hajime was so embarrassed about losing one of his front teeth that Takahiro dared Issei to make Hajime laugh. In the middle of a volleyball match. Issei had the perfect story in mind for Hajime, told in whispers between points.

"Anyway. I told Hiro that sensei's chair was a terrible spot for the frog, but he insisted. So if we're all being honest it really was Hiro's fault that sensei farted on him..."

Hajime had giggled so much that he jumped too far for a spike and took the entire net down with him. Fueled by some embarrassment, but mostly laughter, the three boys scored 8 consecutive points between them and brought their team to victory.

Right before high school started, they had their first ever joke-free conversation: Issei and Takahiro's parents had found new jobs in Miyagi, so they would be moving there and trying to get into a school called Aoba Johsai. Hajime was already set on attending Yamagata East, especially since the volleyball coach had all but guaranteed him a starting spot on the team as a first year.

Hajime knew that everything would be fine. His family lived right on the prefectural border, and the boys agreed to still hang out on weekends and kick each other's asses at nationals. But Hajime still felt a heavy weight in his stomach—it was inevitable that going to different high schools would change their friendship. Sure enough, there were fewer texts exchanged, less time for hanging out, and way too many "You had to be there"s.

And so when That Match happened, Hajime was surprised and incredibly grateful that his two friends immediately stood by his side like absolutely nothing had changed. They worked tirelessly to make the situation a little better for Hajime, and in the end, it was largely due to Issei and Takahiro's efforts that Hajime was able to transfer to Aoba Johsai for their second year of high school.

"Oh, Mattsun, do you think our dear Hajime has turned into a delinquent? How could this happen?" Takahiro wailed. He pulled out a tissue and daintily dabbed at his eyes.

"Well, Makki, we weren't around to help Hajime grow into the fine, upstanding young men we've become," said Issei.

"Makki? Mattsun? Are those nicknames? No, wait, don't answer that, it'll be some dumb story," said Hajime, with no fire in his voice. All three of them smirked at each other and then burst into laughter. Issei and Takahiro each offered Hajime one hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Seriously though, what happened?" asked Takahiro as they continued down the path together. He handed Hajime a tissue.

"Don't wanna talk about it," Hajime mumbled.

The two other boys stopped, each grabbing one of Hajime's shoulders and pulling him to a stop.

"Hey, Hajime." said Issei. Hajime turned to look at him and was surprised to see a steady, intense gaze. Hajime turned to the other side to find Takahiro mirroring Issei, for once with no hint of humor in their expressions.

"Are you okay," said Takahiro. They waited. Hajime felt the air between them change to something heavier. He nodded.

"We're not here to mess with your privacy," Issei continued, "but I—uh I mean we, we're here to help. If and whenever you want it."

Hajime nodded. He knew he was lucky to have these two friends who were willing to help him again and again. But, unwillingly, all Hajime could think was _they can't help me forget._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing fanfiction yay! (and/or ahhhhhh help)
> 
> Yamagata East is a real school's name (Yamagata Higashi) but is meant to be a fictional place. Using it here because eastern Yamagata prefecture borders Miyagi. 
> 
> Titles for chapters 1-9 are from/based on the lyrics for [Invincible by OK Go](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mItuZ8i4wH8).
> 
> Titles for chapters 10-15 are from/based on chapter titles from _Your Lie in April._


	2. They'll have to go through you first

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Ability trumps seniority here," Irihata stated simply._
> 
> _"I'm glad to hear it," responded the assistant coach, "but doesn't it affect confidence? Morale? I'm sure these younger guys could benefit from being around more seasoned players." He looked at the player bios again. "I mean, your notes say that other than the captain, none of them played in an official match last year."_
> 
> _"Correct."_
> 
> _"So what about experience and the respect—"_
> 
> _Irihata raised a hand, the gesture silencing his colleague. "That's why Oikawa is the vice-captain."_

"Join the basketball team!"  
"Hey, you with the spiky hair, we need more members in the judo club!"  
"Have you ever played soccer? Here, take a flyer!"

Hajime was annoyed that only sports teams were approaching him, but he couldn't really blame them. After all, he was an active kid who loved running and playing outside all the time. And then he had played volleyball for so many years that he really did feel like the athletic type

_—the brawny, hardheaded type!_

This time, that voice invading his thoughts came with a face and a name. That face with wide brown eyes and a tinge of pink in his cheeks... Warmth bloomed on Hajime's own face thinking about that moment, that perfect graceful pose in midair that Hajime wanted to look at all the time, if only he'd gotten that picture at the park

_WAIT wait wait wait wait, what?_

Hajime's nose throbbed, the pain pulling him to his senses. He told himself that his cheeks were red from anger, not... whatever else. Hajime sighed, wondering if his brain will keep betraying him. Somehow his thoughts drifted to salmon swimming upstream as he walked against the tide of students with club applications in hand. _Except the stupid fish were better off, they knew where they were going._ Hajime didn't have a clue about what happens after volleyball. He steeled himself against the bumping and jostling as he walked away from the classrooms where many of the clubs met.

The next day, Hajime found a hallway that seemed like it was rarely used. He was grateful for some peace and quiet. 

"I-"  
  
"WA-"  
  
"I-"  
  
"ZU-"  
  
"MIIIIIII!"

Hajime watched in shock as a tall man in a track suit charged at him. Definitely an adult. A gym teacher? How did that man know his name? Did he even have gym class today? Hajime thought he'd remember someone who was _this loud_. The man was still quite far away, but the "-mi" in Hajime's name grew louder and louder. Impending doom aside, Hajime was kind of impressed at this man's lung capacity—

_The only light in the room was the glow of phone screens illuminating four boys' faces._

_"Hey, hey you guys. Don't you think Micchan should be a sports commentator?" The first years snickered at Taka-san's joke. He was the only person on the team who dared to address the assistant coach with that nickname._ _Coach was definitely, absolutely not a_ _-chan._

_Hajime liked all of his teammates and looked up to the third years, but Taka-san was probably the coolest one of them all._

_"_ _Wait, shh, he's not done," someone whispered._

_Their senpai sat straight up, tilted his head back, and yelled "GOOOOOOOOOOOAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!"_

Everyone _woke up. Confused murmurs and annoyed groans filled the room u_ _ntil they were silenced by "Micchan" roaring through the ceiling._

_"BE QUIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETTTT!!"_

_Honestly, it was a little terrifying. They knew how quickly the assistant coach could lose his temper. Sometimes, he'd get so mad that even sweet, gentle Coach Hanada couldn't calm him down. Hajime tensed, waiting to hear heavy footsteps stomp down the stairs._

_But Taka-san, resident loudmouth, broke the silence as he howled and snorted in laughter. Everyone who was still awake laughed too, and Hajime joined in until there were tears in his eyes._

The senpai who always laughed and made you want to laugh with him: Yoritaka Hisashi, libero, Yamagata East volleyball club.  
And the assistant coach who was often the butt of Taka-san's jokes...

 _Oh_. Hajime knew this very loud man from the life he'd left behind. 

"C-Coach Mizoguchi?!"

"YOU! You've got a lot of nerve, Iwaizumi!" Coach Mizoguchi boomed.

"What?"

"Skipping on the first day of practice? And here I was thinking _my_ first day would be easier with a kid I know on the team and all. Y'know," the coach grumbled, "It doesn't look so good when you gotta go chase that kid down for being late."

He sighed. "Get your ass in the locker room, you've got ten minutes to change and warm up."

Hajime stood stock still, mind racing to understand the situation but falling short. 

The coach's expression softened. "Look, Iwaizumi, I understand why you left, so I was relieved to hear that you picked a school with a strong volleyball team." Hajime frowned. This school has a strong team? Issei and Takahiro never said much about it, and admittedly Hajime had been too invested in his own team last year to pay attention to schools they wouldn't play until nationals.

"—another shot. Now by whatever coincidence I'm here too, so the offer stands: come talk to me whenever you want." Mizoguchi took a deep breath. "But for the love of everything SHOW UP TO PRACTICE, DAMN IT!" He stormed off.

Whether it was by reflex or habit, Hajime found himself getting ready for practice in the boys' locker room. Running into the assistant coach _of the team he just ran away from_ was not part of Hajime's plans for today. Or ever. The whole situation was too weird, too impossible.

 _It's Coach's fault,_ Hajime thought, with more than just a hint of bitterness.

Coming to Aoba Johsai—Seijoh, Hajime remembered, the school's nickname—was on his own initiative. But changing into his gym uniform and standing with his hand on the door wasn't. Nope. Not at all. 

 _Coach said to show up, and I can't disobey a teacher. Coach said so. That's why I have to be here..._ Hajime paused, then realized, _God. What a stupid excuse._  He felt terrible for wanting to blame Coach Mizoguchi. This was the person who helped his mom and dad hold half a dozen angry parents at bay, the person who always told everyone it was an accident even when Hajime himself started to believe otherwise.

No, Hajime was mad at himself. Mad for being weak-willed, for failing to stay away.

_... But it doesn't count if I just observe. Yeah._

He took a deep breath and stepped into the gym.

 

* * *

 

Mizoguchi was glad that this practice match was happening on his first day. This year's starters were playing some of Seijoh's OBs, a good opportunity to observe past and present styles. Mizoguchi listened carefully as Head Coach Irihata gave him a quick rundown of every player on the high school side.

"Our captain is Akao, there on the left. He's technically our ace, but he's just not quite up to the level of the other aces in the area. I will say up front that overall physical strength is something that's missing in our current lineup. Still, Akao's the best we've got right now."

Mizoguchi looked at his clipboard. "He's the only third year starting?"

"Ability trumps seniority here," Irihata stated simply.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Mizoguchi, "but doesn't it affect confidence? Morale? I'm sure these younger guys could benefit from being around more seasoned players." He looked at the player bios again. "I mean, your notes say that other than the captain, none of them played in an official match last year."

"Correct."

"So what about experience and the respect—"

Irihata raised a hand, the gesture silencing Mizoguchi. "That's why Oikawa is the vice-captain."

Mizoguchi pondered this. He'd spent all of his career coaching in Yamagata and didn't know too much about Miyagi volleyball. Even so, he _had_ heard of Oikawa Tooru, the popular second year setter who was in almost as many Volleyball Monthly articles and interviews as that Ushijima Wakatoshi. But Ushijima had the distinction of being the only Youth Worlds representative from the entire Tohoku region. Does this mean Seijoh has someone like that too?

 _Crap_. Mizoguchi realized he'd spaced out when Irihata was talking about Oikawa. Oh well. He'd see for himself soon anyway.

"—perienced is Watari, first year. I recruited him as a reserve setter, but the kid had the guts to do libero tryouts just to get a chance to be a starter. He's good enough for now, but part of your job will be to push him."

Mizoguchi nodded. He liked kids who took initiative. As if on cue, Watari made a clean diving receive that went straight to Oikawa for a smooth quick set to Akao. The high schoolers won the point.

"The other unknown is, well, Iwaizumi. I got his stats from your former colleague, Coach..."

"Hanada," Mizoguchi filled in.

"Ah, right. Coach Hanada. She was not available for a phone call yesterday, but her data clearly shows that Iwaizumi is who we need. Now you tell me more about him."

"He's strong. A little hot-headed. Clear communication, good reflexes. Our--I mean, Yamagata's setter was pretty inconsistent, but Iwaizumi more than made up for it. To be honest, he's probably why we made it to semifinals at the last Interhigh."

"He was so good that you followed him here," joked Irihata.

"No, no," Mizoguchi laughed. "But he really is a good kid. Hard worker. Really loved his team. I'm glad he came back..." Mizoguchi trailed off. "There!" he said suddenly. "Who are those two who just jumped the block? Eyebrows over there is really in sync with Pink Hair, even with the height difference."

Irihata chuckled. "Eyebrows is Matsukawa, middle blocker, second year. The taller one is Hanamaki, wing spiker, also a second year. Hanamaki and Oikawa are an exceptional offensive match, and Matsukawa is the best man for front line defense. The three of them make up for our lack of firepower with strategy and smart plays."

Mizoguchi was surprised. Though they pulled off that well-timed block, he thought Matsukawa and Hanamaki looked a little bit bored on the court. 

"Those two actually beat you to it, you know," Irihata continued. "Giving Iwaizumi a good review. Haven't seen them that excited since I took the team out for ramen. Been ace material since middle school, they said. Let's see what that looks like on the court."

 

* * *

 

What that looked like was a giant mess.

Iwaizumi's reach was a lot lower than Mizoguchi remembered. His arm movement was efficient, but without the leverage from a higher contact point Iwaizumi's spike lost a lot of power and speed. Defensively, Mizoguchi supposed that Iwaizumi was all right. He made decent passes and hustled for tougher points.

But a pattern emerged that Mizoguchi had hoped would never happen.

"One touch!" yelled Matsukawa, as a ball ricocheted off his hand towards the back of the court. It was about to land between Iwaizumi and Akao. "Got it!" called Akao. Iwaizumi took a big step away from him. Even from the sidelines, Mizoguchi could see how tense Iwaizumi looked, only relaxing after a talk with Matsukawa in between points.

Another play. The high schoolers fell for a decoy, leaving only Hanamaki to run up for the block. But Oikawa was shouting, "Iwa, go!" Mizoguchi saw that Iwaizumi was already dashing to Hanamaki's side before anyone else reacted. Hanamaki side-stepped to the left, adjusting his position for the block.

_Squeeeak!_

The unmistakable sound of sneakers sliding on a gym floor made everyone turn and look. Iwaizumi had stopped dead in his tracks a few steps short of where he actually needed to be, pinwheeling his arms for balance before landing on his behind. Even the opposing team was so surprised that their spiker landed without swinging, ball falling to the ground beside him.

"If it makes you feel any better, you did technically just score a point for us," said Watari as he stepped forward and helped Iwaizumi up.

And another play. Matsukawa and Iwaizumi are in the back, preparing to receive a powerful serve. The opponent jumped, and instead the ball wobbled erratically towards Iwaizumi. He watched the ball, trying to anticipate its path.

Matsukawa ran towards the ball. Iwaizumi was already in position.

 _He's not calling it_ , Mizoguchi realized.  _And I don't think Eyebrows can stop._

Iwaizumi suddenly scrambled backwards and fell on his butt. Again. Matsukawa had veered to one side, not being able to stop like Mizoguchi predicted but getting out of Iwaizumi's way. The ball landed softly between the two players.

This time, the atmosphere changed. Falling once is one thing, but...

Matsukawa offered Iwaizumi his hand. Iwaizumi accepted the help and got to his feet, face red and gripping his friend's hand tightly. Neither of them spoke.

Akao, however, had some words for them.

"What the fu—" Someone on the court cleared their throat loudly. Akao looked sheepish for a split second, then restarted his rant. "What the HELL was that? Are you stupid? Oh, ho, okay, I get it. _Are you scared of the ball?_ " Akao sneered.

"Akao-san, you know that floaters are hard to receive! Iwaizumi-san probably saw the ball curve in the air," Watari called from the sideline.

"Don't get smart with your captain, first year!" Akao spat. Watari looked down at his feet.

Matsukawa tried to move on. "The other team's ready, Captain. Let's—"

Akao scoffed. "What, can't admit your friend ran away? Everybody else sees it. And I know you've been watching him oh so carefully all. This. Time." Akao said the last few words softly, dangerously, almost a hiss. Matsukawa blushed and immediately let go of Iwaizumi's hand, but he didn't break eye contact with Akao.

Mizoguchi had enough. He only let it get to this point because maybe a new coach shouldn't overstep his bounds.

 _Screw that. No fights on my team,_ Mizoguchi thought. He stomped toward the students.

Before the assistant coach got to the court, Oikawa put a hand on Akao's shoulder and pulled him away from Matsukawa. The captain whipped around to look at Oikawa. Mizoguchi stopped in his tracks when he saw Oikawa's expression, the photogenic kid from those magazine articles now baring his teeth like a feral animal. Oikawa and Akao seemed to exchange a few words, and then Akao turned to the team.

"... call your receive next time. All of you." Akao mumbled.

Oikawa beamed, then turned to address the other team. "It was very kind of you to wait for us." He bowed politely. The OBs looked a little embarrassed, a few muttering "it's okay" and "don't worry about it."

"But," continued Oikawa, "that doesn't mean we'll take it easy on you now, okay?" The magazine-worthy smile is back, topped with a wink. Most chuckled at this, and even the players who rolled their eyes were grinning. The two teams resumed their match.

 

* * *

 

Hajime was sweeping the gym floor when he saw the coaches talking to Oikawa. They looked stern, while Oikawa was saying something while looking down. _Did Oikawa do something wrong?_ Hajime frowned. He had watched the setter all practice and didn't see him do anything out of the ordinary, other than diffusing the giant bomb that was Akao. Or making his two best friends look so happy when they pulled off a particularly tricky play.

Wait. Why did he care? No more volleyball after today. He probably won't even see Oikawa ever again. Hajime sighed. He started mentally composing his club resignation notice when he felt something hard hit his back.

"Oi, I can see actual storm clouds above your head." Takahiro said, holding out the water bottle he'd just hit Hajime with. 

Before Hajime could respond, he saw Oikawa approaching. And how could he not? There was a literal bounce in Oikawa's steps as he made his way to Hajime and Takahiro, whistling unless he was saying good night to a teammate.  _I guess that means Oikawa didn't get in trouble,_ Hajime thought, feeling incredibly relieved... but nobody needed to know that last part.

"Makki!" Oikawa sang. "Let me borrow I-wa-i-zu-mi-kun for a while, 'kay?"

"But what about ice cream?" Takahiro asked.

 _He looks... disappointed? No way. That was a real question?_ Hajime always thought he had a good read on his best friends' emotions, but maybe that's not true anymore.  _He's changed,_ Hajime realized. Many of the points Takahiro scored during practice today required dexterity and finesse Hajime had never seen in his friend before.  _And I guess he's different off the court now, too._ Since when did Takahiro like ice cream anyway? 

"Don't worry, Makki, no one can replace you!" Oikawa winked. Takahiro grinned back, waving over his shoulder as he walked away.

"Now. _You_." Just like that, the winking and the flirting was over. In its place was something a little cold and unsettling. "We've got some work to do." Oikawa seized Hajime's wrist and pulled him towards one of the courts.

Hajime was too surprised to react until they were about to walk by the two coaches. He needed to decide if it was more important to apologize for disrupting the practice match, or to ask to be rescued from whatever Oikawa was doing. As tempting as option two sounded, he went for the apology.

Hajime tugged Oikawa to a stop. "Coach Irihata, Coach Mizoguchi, I'm really sorry about today." _Damn it, this is embarrassing._ "I don't think I should be playing volleyball anyway, there must have been a mistake with my club application form and _ow what—_ " Hajime said as he felt Oikawa's hand tighten into a painful vice grip.

"Iwaizumi," said Coach Irihata.

"Um. Yes?" Hajime felt the setter loosen his grip. 

"Be on time tomorrow. Oikawa, you're starting now? Didn't know you meant today."

"Better late than never, Coach-san! Lots to do!"

"Mhmm," Coach Irihata nodded. Hajime looked to Coach Mizoguchi for a clue, help, anything at all. The assistant coach looked uncharacteristically passive, which frankly just creeped Hajime out.

And then he felt his brain shift from "creeped out" to "okay do I need to run away what is happening" as Coach Irihata handed Oikawa a set of keys.

"You left the storage closet open last time. Double check when you leave tonight."

_Oh. Oh shit. The coaches are in on whatever this is._

"Yes, sir!" Oikawa chirped, saluting with his free hand before hauling Hajime away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be a long ride, my friends.  
> Next chapter is 100% Hajime and Tooru! 
> 
> I tried some Mizoguchi POV before Tooru pretty much replaces the coaches in his third year. His entrance is definitely lifted from Ukai's "KAGEYAMAAAAAA" bit. I think Ukai and Mizoguchi would probably be friends. 
> 
> Yes, there will be more hand and wrist holding in Hajime's future. Please look forward to it!


	3. Thousand Fahrenheit hot metal lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When Hajime didn't respond, Oikawa smiled. "Let me summarize for you. First, since you didn't let me finish in the park," Oikawa said as he put the ball back in the cart. "I'm Oikawa Tooru, second year, setter and vice captain of the Aoba Johsai boys' volleyball team. We're here today..."_
> 
> _He moved towards Hajime like a predator stalking its prey. Their eyes met, and Hajime saw fire, hunger, determination._
> 
> _"... because we are going to win."_

"Welcome to remedial spiking practice!" Oikawa announced, bowing in a flourish and gesturing towards a cart of volleyballs like he was introducing someone on stage.

Hajime looked around the gym.

"No one else is coming, I-wa-i-zu-mi-kun," said Oikawa. 

There was a glint in the setter's eyes. It reminded Hajime of a fox on the hunt. ... which would make Hajime the prey. So he changed the subject. "Why are you saying my name like that?"

"Like what?" asked Oikawa, all innocent and... cute. _Damn it,_ Hajime thought.

"Like every syllable is hard for you to say. Or... whatever. I don't know how else to explain, you're the one saying it weird! Just Iwaizumi is fine anyway."

"Why?" Oikawa asked.

_Huh? Why?_

Hajime looked at Oikawa. The setter's brows furrowed as if in deep thought. Head slightly tilted, eyes focused somewhere above them. One hand rested on his hip ( _just above_ those _legs_ ), while a finger on the other hand was pressed into his lips ( _how do they look so soft_ )... Anyone else looking at Oikawa would see that he was putting on an act, with that blatantly obvious pose while pretending not to understand. But Hajime's only conclusion was  _cute cute cute cute cute cute cute_

He smacked himself in the face with both hands, trying to refocus. "Because it's my name? Because you don't have to be so formal? It's one less syllable you have to say in that weird way?"

Oikawa, all in one breath:

"Oh! Well! If you insist on a shorter name then obviously I will be calling you Iwa-chan. As you might have observed today, we need to balance out our attacks so that Akao-san isn't the only option for breaking through the opponent's defense. The teams that catch us in three-man blocks are our worst match, which makes our biggest threat Datekougyou, everyone calls them Dateko, and I heard they have some good underclassmen so we're in it for the long run but let's not forget the other  _Iwa-chan why are you just standing there?_ "

_Huh?_

A ball was flying at him. Somehow, even with no time to think, Hajime _knew_ that this toss would let him slam the ball down any way he wanted. And he couldn't resist.

The cross he hit flew at such a wicked angle that Hajime felt a little giddy from the satisfaction.

_Wait a minute this isn't_

All the tosses were fast now.

Toss. "Hold—" _Smack-BAM_. Another cross.  
Toss. "Oi—" _Smack-BAM_. He spiked this one too.  
Toss. "OI—" _Smack-BAM_. A fast straight that barely landed in.

"—KAWA!" Hajime boomed, interrupting the relentless rhythm they had fallen into. Oikawa paused, ball still in his fingertips.

"Yes, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa said sweetly. 

Hajime wanted to fight this whole Iwa-chan thing (seriously, it's almost as dumb as Makki and Ma— _oh_ ). But more importantly he needed to find out what the hell was going on here. Being alone with Oikawa was... overwhelming.

"Why are we doing this?" Then, to himself,  _Why don't I just leave? Why_ can't _I?_

"I don't know if you noticed, but you were shit out there today." Oikawa's tone didn't give Hajime any room to argue. 

 _... not that he's wrong,_ Hajime thought _._

Oikawa started tossing again.

Hajime spiked. Over and over. It was like his mind and body belonged to two different people.

At his mind's urging, Hajime tried to interject, "Wait, I have more questions!"

"So, ask," said Oikawa mildly. Still tossing, still hitting. "It's called multitasking, Iwa-chan."

Hajime was about to stop and snap back with an insult when he noticed how well he was hitting. Like  _really_ well _._

 _No reason to stop, I guess._ Plus Hajime's proud, competitive side, which had been in hiding for so long, now wanted to prove that yes, he can multitask, thank you very much. 

"Why now and not at practice? With everyone else?" Suspicion was clear in Hajime's voice.

The setter pouted. "You don't want to spend time alone with the great Oikawa-san?"

 _Ugh, there's the Oikawa-san again. You're weird and stubborn and cute and interesting and even breathtaking that one time so yeah, maybe I do want to spend more time with you._  Hajime frowned, struggling to accept this thought.

Oikawa must've read his expression as anger, because he stopped tossing and dropped the theatrics. "Okay! Okay! Because there's a practice match in three days and you need to be ready. Akao-san and Makki and Mattsun are just fine, so you have some catching up to do."

Curiosity got the better of Hajime. He asked, "So from today. That's our team?" 

"Yep! We were missing Motomu though. He was absent from class, I think he has a cold," Oikawa explained.

 _Another_ _second year._ Something still wasn't making sense to Hajime. "Why is the coach so invested in reserve players this early in the year?" 

"Huh?" Oikawa seemed surprised. "Have you met Yahaba already?"

"Who?" Hajime asked, but that was beside the pointt. "No," he continued, "I mean that Coach Irihata wanted us to do this and it's only the first day of practice. No _actually_ , the fact that Coach set up this remedial practice at all. And the six of us were the only ones who got to play the OBs."

"What does this have to do wi—... oh. Oh. You mean  _us_ ," said Oikawa, waving a finger between himself and Hajime. "Why is Coach-san so invested in our little group."

Hajime nodded. Oikawa burst out laughing.

 _Is everything a joke with this guy?_ Hajime was starting to get mad. He thought back to Oikawa's flippant attitude at the park. "Hey! Stop being a shit, Oikawa. It's a legit question!"

"Ahh, sorry, sorry." Oikawa continued after he'd calmed down a little. "Iwa-chan, look at our team. Wouldn't it be weird if both the captain _and_ vice captain failed to make the starting lineup? Speaking of Yahaba, you really should meet him soon, he's my replacement whenever something happens. Plus—"

Hajime stopped listening and tried to work the situation out. _Who's the vice captain?_ Today was so stressful that all Hajime could remember was the captain freaking out and the libero being a nice guy. Was it Takahiro?  _Great, another thing I don't know about him. Did Issei change too?_

"Have a little faith in Makki and Mattsun!" Oikawa said. Hajime jolted in surprise. No way Oikawa was reading his mind, but what he said was a much-needed reminder. Of course Hajime believed in his best friends. The last time he thought they'd changed, they appeared at his side in an instant and saved him from self-destructing at the end of his first year. The three of them would work everything out in the end, together.

Oikawa continued with a touch of pride in his voice. "They are, without question, the best wing spiker and middle blocker at Seijoh. How could they not be in the starting lineup? Though that won't be the case after I make you our ace. Are you getting it now, Iwa-chan?"

When Hajime didn't respond, Oikawa smiled. "Let me summarize for you. First, since you didn't let me finish in the park," Oikawa said as he put the ball back in the cart. "I'm Oikawa Tooru, second year, setter and vice captain of the Aoba Johsai boys' volleyball team. We're here today..."

He moved towards Hajime, again like a predator stalking its prey. Their eyes met, and Hajime saw fire, hunger, determination.

"... because we are going to win, and I _absolutely cannot waste any time._ " Oikawa said these last few words with something even darker than bitterness. _Despair?_  Hajime felt like a different person was standing in front of him. Saying anything right now would be like walking through a minefield.

Hajime couldn't speak anyway; he wasn't even sure he was breathing. By now Oikawa was close, much too close for comfort. The setter took one more step and grasped one of Hajime's shoulders, leaning in so that his lips _almost_ grazed Hajime's ear. It was more of an exhale than a whisper, but Hajime felt every single word burn into his heart. 

"We _will_ rule the court, Iwaizumi Hajime."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Next: obliviousness, misunderstanding, and Mattsun getting caught in the middle.~~
> 
> Speeding things up a little bit more. Next chapter will be full of sideways but sincere confessions.


	4. Crushing, crashing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"There's a lot to be scared of on the court. Of accidents, of letting your teammates down, of letting yourself down. But we go out there anyway because we live and love volleyball. Because there is a chance to be a part of a perfectly orchestrated team of individual but harmonious players. Of finding the perfect trust, the belief that your teammates will always do their best when you're counting on them the most._
> 
> _I believe that Aoba Johsai is where we can build this team."_

"Hm, what else should I ask Iwa-chan..." Oikawa sang.

All of the equipment was locked safely in the storage closet, save for one volleyball the two boys were now tossing back and forth. Oikawa had declared that "a setter and his ace need to have a very close relationship!" and insisted on playing question and answer. Although Hajime would never admit it, getting to know Oikawa a little better was fun.

"Favorite manga? I bet Iwa-chan loves the romantic stuff~"

Hajime rolled his eyes. "JoJo. Favorite fast food?"

"French fries dipped in strawberry ice cream."

"Oikawa, what the hell."

"The heart wants what the heart wants," Oikawa responded. "What do your parents do for a living?"

"My dad's a salaryman and my mom's a first grade teacher. Siblings?" Hajime asked.

"Nope. My parents had me and decided to stop after perfection." Oikawa said airily.

Hajime wanted to bash his head into the volleyball. How ridiculous could this guy get? "How can you even— jeez. Never mind. Why did you start playing volleyball?"

All of a sudden, a soft, faraway look replaced the bratty and mischievous smirks Oikawa had been giving Hajime. "I always loved watching volleyball but only wanted to play when I saw an amazing player in person. That was a while ago... towards the end of elementary school. You?"

"Because spiking is fun. Hey," Hajime complained, "I thought we weren't doing repeats?"

"Sorry, sorry."

"Jeez. Follow your own rules, Oikawa."

"Okay, here's a better one," said the setter. "Hardest part of volleyball?"

"Receiving," Hajime said without pause.

"I dunno, Iwa-chan, you did a pretty good job of receiving my serve with your face the other day..."

Hajime rolled his eyes. "You're really a piece of trash sometimes, you know?" Oikawa giggled at this. "I'm changing the subject," said Hajime. "Favorite normal food?"

"Milk bread," Oikawa, too, replied with zero hesitation."

"Oikawa. That's not a normal food."

"Don't push your food group agendas on me."

"Pastries are not a food group," Hajime insisted.

"This is why you have no joy in life, Iwa-chan. What did you eat for breakfast?"

Same thing Hajime ate almost every day. "Grilled fish and rice."

"See my point?" said Oikawa.

"Is that your question?"

Oikawa laughed. "Touche. Okay, one more and then we should stop."

"All right, shoot."

This time, Oikawa held onto the ball. "Why would the 16 year old ace of his high school volleyball team disappear from the sport after leading his team to their best Interhigh finish in 3 years?"

Hajime's blood ran cold. _He knows._

Something prickled at the back of Hajime's neck. He took a few shaky steps then sank down onto the floor, sitting back against the net post for support. "But how— wh— d-did—"

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa began gently, "you were... you. Not some nationally ranked prodigy, but a normal guy who managed to redefine his team, change its legacy, put Yamagata East on the map in less than one year of high school. A true ace in results and well-deserved reputation. We knew your name, those of us trying to do the very same thing. We looked up to you, looked forward to taking you on."

Hajime said nothing.

"I... heard it was a practice match." Oikawa continued. "There was a collision? One player was briefly hospitalized for a concussion but returned to his team soon after. But it was the uninjured player who didn't go back."

Hajime nodded, then buried his face in his arms.

Oikawa's voice, soft and delicate. "I don't have the whole story, do I." 

He kneeled in front of Hajime, patience and calm slightly marred by the white knuckles of tightly clenched fists. After a long stretch of silence, Hajime lifted his head. He blinked slowly, as if awakening from a deep sleep, before settling his gaze on Oikawa's face before him. Searching for any sign of judgement or disgust and finding nothing.

"I-It was my fault," Hajime croaked. "It was avoidable and it never should have happened and it was all for, what. Ego? Pride? _Tch._ It's sickening." His voice, at first broken and hesitant, crescendoed with anger until he spat out the last few words, harsh and bitter.

Oikawa winced but stayed silent.

Hajime stared at a spot on the floor. He couldn't look at Oikawa when he talked about this. "I knew I was worth something to the team, that I put us closer to the center of that tournament bracket than ever before. And that got to my head. I needed to score and to win and I didn't care who I took down. My senpais knew. They knew I had gone too far and needed to be stopped, but the coaches wouldn't bench me and I was _glad_."

"The spring tournament was still months away, but we had just lost at Interhigh. A lot of our third years retired. We lost our libero and a wing spiker, and I wanted us to get back on track, fast. Our setter was struggling with the more complicated plays, and he had a brand new wing spiker to learn about. It was probably just easier to toss to me all the time, for me to score more points, and. I loved it."

"It was just a fucking practice match, you know." Here, Hajime's voice started to tremble. "Against a team we'd beaten in the tournament, too. So when we were losing, I started pushing for the newer strategies, the more experimental stuff that was still hit or miss for our team. It was too much. None of it was going to plan. Tosses were off target, blockers were confused... what should've been well-orchestrated attacks just became noise."

"I honestly don't know whose name our setter called. I must've thought it was me, because I ran up for the jump, but Saito-san did too and we crashed. I was the smaller player, but I landed on top of him and he took all the damage. I think I'd taken him out with my elbow while swinging at the ball, too. It was obvious to the team that I just needed to score so badly that I plowed through a teammate and gave him a concussion for a _stupid_ point in a _stupid_ practice match."

"And what the team knew, their parents knew. Coach Hanada and Coach Mizoguchi were... lifesavers. When they didn't need to be and shouldn't have been. A group of my teammates' parents showed up with a letter calling for the resignation of both coaches on the grounds of encouraging a violent student's behavior. You don't know this about Coach Mizoguchi yet, but he can hold his own against an army with just his voice." Hajime tried to laugh, but it came out like a low huff instead. "But Hanada-san, she was like an older sister who you still wanted to protect once in a while because she was too damn nice to everybody. They all turned on her. Saying that she wasn't strong enough to coach, that if a man like Coach Mizoguchi had been in charge that this wouldn't have happened."

"The principal got involved. Saito-san was fully recovered then, and with our old libero Taka-san tried to testify on our behalf, me and the coaches. They were shot down too. Everyone said Saito-san was too scared to tell the truth and Taka-san was biased because we were friendly outside of practice. It wouldn't stop, Oikawa. And I couldn't keep doing this to people who never needed to be involved, insulted, hurt. My parents thought if I left the team for a while, it would cool down. But the damage was done. A lot of my friends stopped talking to me, but that was okay if I still had Issei and Takahiro."

"Then I overheard my parents talking. One of my teammates' moms told my mom she was a horrible parent in the middle of the grocery store. In public. In front of strangers, neighbors, other parents."

"I couldn't do it to them any more. My mom is the nicest person I know. What if this affected her job, if one of her students' parents had been in the store? Hiro had this idea to stop things from getting worse: transferring to the school he and Issei went to. Different prefecture, different friends, no volleyball. My parents were against it. I think they were worried I'd lose even more friends. But they had more to lose. The coaches did too, and the team that was already falling apart."

"So I begged my parents. And now I'm here." Hajime looked up. He was shaking.

"Iwa-chan..." Oikawa finally unclenched his fists. He looked into Hajime's eyes, cautiously extending one hand forward. Hajime flinched, but saw something in Oikawa's expression that made him relax just a fraction.

That was enough for Oikawa. His cold but careful fingertips trailed up Hajime's jawline. Hajime leaned into the touch, resting his cheek on the setter's palm. Oikawa lowered his forehead onto Hajime's, the sound and feel of his breathing grounding Hajime in the present.

Both boys had their eyes closed, Hajime still focusing on Oikawa's steady inhales and exhales.

"Iwa-chan."

"..."

"At any point, ever, did you intend to hurt Saito-san?" Oikawa murmured.

"No. No, of course not." Hajime whispered back.

With his eyes closed, Hajime only had a split second loss of warmth and proximity as a warning before

_THUNK_

his head vibrated with an oddly familiar pain.

"OW!" Both boys yelled.

" _Oww_ wait, why did YOU say ow?!" Hajime shouted.

"I've never headbutted anyone before?! Why does your head hurt my head so much?" Oikawa had the nerve to sound _indignant_.

"Oh my God _what the shit_ , Shittykawa, are you getting mad at me for... for having a skull?!"

"Shi— What is th— _ugh_ Iwa-chan, you're the one being a shit!"

Hajime should've been really, really fucking angry, except the experience of getting headbutted by the boy he maybe kind of liked after said boy just heard his darkest secret was... not... making...

"Iwa-chan look at me. Look. At me." Oikawa held Hajime's face with both of his hands. "I'll accept Shittykawa this one time because headbutting you might've been kind of shitty, but allow me explain precisely why you're the shittier of shits in this conversation right now." Oikawa mushed Hajime's cheeks into a fish face, making it impossible for Hajime to respond.

"Fifteen minutes ago you told me you once cried because you thought some ants were overheating in your mother's garden. You are physically and mentally incapable of truly harming another living creature."

Hajime wanted to run away. _Why did I tell him that—_

Oikawa's eyes bore into Hajime's. "Maybe you weren't ready to lead. What first year high school student is? But I really doubt you were the power hungry villain that your probably-jealous senpais said you were."

"First. If you didn't like getting all the tosses and points, you wouldn't be an ace on any team. Do _not_. Apologize for that." Oikawa said this with such authority that Hajime almost nodded out of pure instinct.

"Second." Oikawa continued, "You're a giant massive idiot and wimp and you need to get it together. Why are you accepting all of these lies about you? About the situation? You're right that some of this never needed to happen. You and your parents and your coaches never needed to be bullied. But they defended you and fought for you for a reason: because you are not a bad person and you are not a danger to others. God, Iwa-chan, you're not even a danger to invertebrates."

"There's a lot to be scared of on the court. Of accidents, of letting your teammates down, of letting yourself down. But we go out there anyway because we live and love volleyball. Because there is a chance to be a part of a perfectly orchestrated team of individual but harmonious strengths. Of finding the perfect trust, the belief that your teammates will always do their best when you're counting on them the most."

"I believe that Aoba Johsai is where we can build this team. I thought it could be true when I left Kitaichi behind, but now that you've been on this court I know it can happen. Now that it's within reach, I will protect this potential if it's the last thing I do. If anyone poses a threat to any of our teammates, to our trust in each other while I'm here, I will rip them apart with my bare hands."

Oikawa took a deep breath.

"Besides, it sounds like a lot of this has to do with your former mediocre-or-worse setter, so once you get used to perfect tosses from the best setter in Japan, you," Oikawa stabs a finger on Hajime's chest, "will be invincible."

"..."

Oikawa let go of Hajime's cheeks. "Well?" He demanded. "Any questions? Objections?"

"Um... yeah," said Hajime, rubbing the soreness out of his face. Then, he smirked. "When's the best setter in Japan coming to Seijoh?"

" _Rude_ , Iwa-chan!"

They left the gym together, hands in their pockets and shoulders brushing every few steps. As they reached the school gate, Hajime spoke.

"Oikawa. I just... I don't know." _I don't want to lose control. I can't hurt you, Takahiro, Issei, anyone. Don't let me hurt you._

"But will you think about it?" asked Oikawa. 

"Yeah. Yeah, I will." And Hajime wasn't lying. 

Oikawa smiled. "Bye-bye, Iwa-chan."

Maybe it was a trick of the fading light, but Hajime thought he saw a deep warmth in Oikawa's eyes as they turned to head their separate ways.

* * *

"Go ahead, Oikawa."

"Thanks, Coach-san!" Tooru cheerfully addressed his teammates, who were not nearly as energetic as they should've been for 8:30 in the morning. "I think Iwa-chan should start in Friday's match."

Mattsun sighed. "Don't you think he should be here for this kind of decision?"

"Of course, I'm not suggesting we drag him onto a court like _barbarians_ ," Tooru started to reply.

Coach Irihata made a strange, choked sound. Coach Mizoguchi tried to hide a snort behind a very fake sneeze. Tooru raised an eyebrow but continued. "It _is_ just a practice match, and we'll already be a man short if Motomu is still sick. If it really won't work out, we'll have time to work in a new wing spiker before Interhigh prelims."

"Well, I'm down. You're not the only Iwaizumi fan here, Oikawa." Makki said casually.

"Captain?" Mattsun asked.

Akao swallowed whatever he'd just finished eating, looking rather cheerful. "Fine by me, if he doesn't suck now. Would be nice to spread out the offense a little more." Tooru was very pleased that a relatively cooperative Akao only cost a melon bread.

"Other objections?" Coach Irihata asked. Watari gave a thumbs up and a smile. After another beat of silent assent, the coach dismissed the team.

 _Success!_ Tooru was thrilled. But he had to make sure...

"Mattsun~ Got a few minutes?" Tooru asked as they were changing into school uniforms.

"Tooru. Hey. Sure."

They waited until everyone else had left. "Do you... think it's a bad idea for Iwa-chan to play on Friday?"

"Oh." Mattsun considered this. "Honestly? Whether or not he plays doesn't really matter to me."

"Huh?"

"All of that shit at his old school tore him apart, and I can't watch him go through that again. Hell, I can barely stand watching him _wonder_ if it might happen again." He laughed, a little self-deprecatingly. "But I've also seen him without volleyball. He was a mess. If it wasn't schoolwork all day and all night, it was video games. He barely slept or ate. And I don't know if you know this but the guy cooks all of his own meals and goes to bed at 10 every night to go running at 6 every morning. He's seriously—"

"—like an old man," they said in chorus, laughing.

Tooru hadn't missed what was hidden in Mattsun's voice. "You like him, don't you, Mattsun."

"I. I don't want Hajime to suffer..." Mattsun deflected.

Tooru looked down at his feet. Was he pushing too hard and hurting Iwa-chan?

Mattsun sighed. "... But I don't think he fell out of love with volleyball, yet. Otherwise he would've left after the first butt-plant yesterday. Plus we can probably help him more if we're all on the team... If you're gonna try and convince Hajime to play on Friday, I'm in."

"Mattsun!" Tooru flew at his friend with a hug. "You're the best."

"Yeah, yeah, that's what all the cute ones tell me." Mattsun smiled weakly, untangling himself from Tooru. "By the way, if you wanna officially buy my vote, I'll take a yakisoba bread. Melon bread is too sweet for me."

* * *

"Hajime. Hajimeeeee—" Takahiro was lying on his back, clutching his stomach, head resting on Issei's lap.

"What?"

"I, Hanamaki Takahiro, almost attained enlightenment last night, freeing my body and soul to the sweet, yet satisfying wonders of the world. It's still too much for my heart to handle."

Hajime sighed. "Issei, can you translate that?"

Issei didn't look away from his book. "It's something like, 'I had french fries and ice cream for dinner last night and it was amazing except now my stomach hurts.'"

 _"French fries dipped in strawberry ice cream."_  
_"Oikawa, what the hell."_

"Oh," was all Hajime planned to say. But instead, "Were you with Oikawa?" slipped out.

"Eh? Yeah," Takahiro replied. "Tooru eats like a garbage disposal so I try to save him from himself."

Hajime felt his heart pounding. _He calls him Tooru?_

"You know, he suggested you play in the match on Friday," Issei cut in.

"I'm not going." Hajime said, flatly.

His friend raised an eyebrow. "Is that because you don't want to, or because you think you shouldn't?"

Hajime tried to explain. "There are third years who are much better and more experienced than I am. And the coaches—" He'd been wracked with guilt all morning, constantly hearing Coach Irihata's voice in his head telling him to show up to practice on time. 

"The coaches agreed, actually." Issei countered. "But only if you show up to practice."

"But why me?" Hajime couldn't understand why Oikawa and Issei both wanted him to play. "You saw me play. Oikawa already has some good offensive plays set up with Takahiro, too, so it's not like the team is lacking."

"Hajime," said Takahiro, "That's the coaches' call, not yours."

"But—You and Oikawa," Hajime said to Takahiro. "You've known each other longer, work together better. It makes more sense."

Takahiro looked confused. "What makes more sense? You're not making any. It's not like you're trying to take my place—"

Issei pushed Takahiro off his lap.

" _Hey Mattsun!"_   Takahiro complained, pushing himself off the concrete. "A little warning next time?" 

"Right. Sorry. Gotta go." Issei rushed off.

"Lunch isn't over for another 20 minutes..." muttered Takahiro.

Hajime was sitting cross-legged, one elbow on his knee and propping his head up with that hand. He still hadn't responded.

Takahiro sat up. "Hajime... are you _sulking?_ Are we still talking about volleyball?"

"Let's say none of what happened at Yamagata East was my fault. Doesn't change that I still played a part in hurting other people. I don't belong with any team, with anyone."

Takahiro sighed. "We can't make you believe in yourself. But if you think there's even the tiniest chance you could be happy on the team, can you believe in us? Believe in us and we'll prove you can trust the team, trust me and Mattsun, trust Tooru. Seriously, even _Akao_ said he was fine with you playing on Friday. Don't just decide you don't belong, Hajime. The coaches decide whether or not you're on the team, I decide whether or not I think you're my best friend. I know I can speak for Mattsun on this. And Tooru was talking about you last night, he really thinks we'll get somewhere this year if you'll fight with us."

"You like him, huh. To—Oikawa." Hajime could hardly believe the words coming out of his own mouth. Why couldn't he stop himself from talking about Oikawa?

"Yeah, I do. And you do too." Takahiro said, without giving Hajime a chance to continue. "It's the same thing, isn't it? We don't decide who he wants."

"We're... it's... impossible," Hajime stated. "There's no way a guy like that, with a guy like me..."

"Hajime, he's not as unreachable and bulletproof as you think," Takahiro said, with a faint smile. "If he lets you in, you'll know it's not impossible. It's all up to Tooru."

"God. Don't let him hear you say that," replied Hajime.

They both laughed. Takahiro thought about this. "Yeah," he concluded. "We're already at his mercy on the court, he doesn't need any more power over us."

"Isn't it already too late for that, _'Makki'_?" asked Hajime, making air quotes with his fingers around the nickname.

Takahiro did the same. "You tell me, _'Iwa-chan'_."

"We're fucking—" Hajime began,  
"We're such—" Takahiro said,

"—idiots." They finished at the same time.

* * *

Hajime had a lot to think about. While the rest of the day and most of the next had come and gone, he still hadn't made a decision about going to practice that afternoon. It would be his only chance to play with the team again before tomorrow's match.

Hajime heard a girl shriek. He snapped to attention and saw almost every girl in his class trying to see something in the hallway.

"What's he doing here?"  
"Emi-chan, how does my hair look?"  
"I'm so excited ohmigod he looks so good close up you guys—"  
"He took a selfie with me!! Go ask him for one!"

_The hell is going on?_

"Hi ladies—," said an all-too-familiar voice. "Just need to talk to a friend— Ah, well, I'm afraid i don't have much time today, but I'm in class 2-1 if you ever want to stop by yes oh excuse me— Iwa-chan!" Oikawa called. 

"Uh." Was all that Hajime could say. Every single girl who had been trying to get Oikawa's attention now looked at Hajime instead. He felt the urge to tuck his shirt in.

"Come with me for a second?" Oikawa asked from the doorway. "I just need to talk to you. Sorry ladies, maybe next time we can all chat!" The girls groaned and sighed, some returning to their seats and others leaving the room.

So even girls from other classes had followed him here, huh. Hajime stood to join Oikawa—

"Iwaizumi-kun, are you leaving? I thought you were taking Suzuki-kun's cleanup duties today," the class rep questioned.

"Right. Yeah," Hajime said dismissively. He was far more interested in finding out what all of _this_ was. "I'll just be out in the hallway."

As soon as Hajime stepped outside the classroom, Oikawa bent into a deep bow.

"What th—" Hajime hissed. "Oikawa! What are you doing? Stand up, people are staring—" He whipped his head back towards the classroom. Sure enough, there was a flurry of movement inside as people scrambled to get away from the windows.

Oikawa straightened, face a little flushed, swearing under his breath. "How are your legs?" He asked in a low voice.

"Uh. I dunno, fine?" Hajime was missing something here.

"Okay, because we're running! _Now!_ "

They took off down the hallway, leaving the fading voices of disappointed girls behind them.

"Haah... sorry... took too long to get to... can't be late..." Oikawa panted as they made it to the roof.

"'s fine... huff... Why are we—"

"Volleyball...." Oikawa answered, finally catching his breath. "I've loved volleyball ever since I went to my first live match. That person I told you about... they played like there was absolutely nothing better in the world. I've been chasing that ever since. The feeling of belonging somewhere in the world, like I'm living my life in the best way. Fun. Satisfaction. Pride. Knowing that if I can pour all of myself into the sport, it would never let me down. I play to share that with my teammates. To show fans something they would never forget, like the memory of my first match that I'll always have."

"I, I'm scared I won't find it any more but I need to, now, more than ever so _please_ , Iwa-chan," said Oikawa imploringly, desperately. He bent at the waist, once again dropping into a bow, "Please give me a bit of support. Please stand on the court with me."

Hajime watched, wide-eyed, as tears dripped onto the rooftop where Oikawa stood.

_"If he lets you in, you'll know it's not impossible."_

"I'll do it," said Hajime.

Trembling slightly, Oikawa looked up. Even with swollen eyes, a red nose, and tears streaming down his face, his smile was still the loveliest Hajime had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gratuitous almost-kisses will keep happening because I am weak, so weak for them. 
> 
> Fries dipped in chocolate milkshakes are my jam.


	5. Leave me stunned and stuttering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The practice match would begin as soon as warmups were over. He had played decently during the 3-on-3s yesterday, but Hajime knew he could do better. That alone was frustrating enough, but his usual demons also made their appearances. Pain. Betrayal. Loneliness. Fear._
> 
> _To Hajime's surprise, the people who cheered him up the most were a guy he'd just met and a guy who hated his guts._

It was like standing in a bubble. Even though there was free practice happening all around him, all Hajime heard was a dim roar in the distance. He was standing in this pocket of stifling silence and stale air, hands sweating, awaiting judgement from the very unexpected and unholy partnership before him.

Coach Irihata and class 2-4 representative Himura Fuyumi stood side by side as they stared coolly at Hajime, faces impassive.

Finally, _finally,_ the coach spoke. His voice was as even as his expression. "Iwaizumi, you skipped practice yesterday. You also showed up late to this critical, final practice before our first match of the year."

The man paused.

"Then Himura-san tells me that you abandoned your classroom cleaning duties this afternoon."

 _Oh shit._ Hajime had forgotten all about those once he and Oikawa ran to the roof.

The coach continued. "To kill a few birds with one stone, you will be following a... what did you call it, Himura-san?"

Hajime's classmate cleared her throat. "A cooperative disciplinary agenda, sir, designed to benefit class 4, the athletics department as a whole, and Iwaizumi-kun himself. By completing these activities, he will build strength and endurance while supporting club advisors and coaches." She tapped at her notebook with her pen. "Of course, both Irihata-san and Akao-san have reviewed these activities and deemed them appropriate for Iwaizumi-kun's current physical ability." Coach Irihata nodded at the class rep with approval. The two of them smiled. Hajime felt a lot better when they didn't.

And that was why Hajime was running with all of class 2-4's trash, right past the disposal chute just down the hall, to the gym dumpster where Coach Irihata was waiting. The rest of the volleyball team watched curiously as Hajime dragged floor mats from one gym to another and carted huge jugs of water out to the soccer and baseball fields. 

After the team returned from a leisurely jog, Oikawa couldn't stop himself from laughing when he saw Hajime sitting on the gym floor, piles of paper around him and stapler in hand. "Wait, how does this one count as part of practice?" Oikawa asked gleefully after Hajime had filled him in.

"... It doesn't. Himura-san just didn't feel like doing this herself today." Hajime mumbled.

Oikawa was cackling, now. "You know, I heard that she marched right through the boys' locker room without batting an eye to talk to Coach-san in his office earlier. That is one impressive class rep you've got there. How terribly _tragic_ that our class rep just doesn't measure up to yours."

"Oh, shut it."  
  


* * *

  
Hajime finished all of his "special conditioning" just in time to play some 3-on-3.

"Watari," Coach Mizoguchi called, "Go receive on court 2. The first years are doing spiking drills over there and I want you to pick up as many as you can." The libero nodded and jogged away.

"Akao, Matsukawa, Hanamaki, court 1," continued Coach Mizoguchi, "versus Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and me."

"What?!"  
"Huh?"  
"No way."

"Isn't this a little unbalanced?" asked Issei after the chorus of complaints died down. They'd all seen Coach Mizoguchi's power firsthand.

"No, because I won't be making any offensive plays."

" _WHAT?_ " Hajime and Oikawa cried in unison. This was going to be _exhausting_.

"Hey, Coach Irihata and Class Rep-san weren't the only ones with a little punishment in mind. AND before you say anything, you," Coach Mizoguchi gave Oikawa a sharp look, "were late to practice too."

"Why does everyone always think I'm going to complain?" Oikawa whined.

Coach Mizoguchi ignored this and continued. "It would also be unfair if I'm a total dead weight, so I'll still set and block. But the two of you'll need to hustle to get your points in. I want to see you moving, calling for the ball, and getting in scoring position fast. Well, that goes for everybody. Five minute break to figure out your strategy, get some water, stretch." The two trios moved to their respective sides of the court.

Hajime was feeling a little lightheaded now, and he didn't think it was from all the exercise earlier. Playing another match, and a faster-paced 3-on-3 at that...

"Iwaizumi," Coach Mizoguchi said.

Hajime tried to focus on the coach's voice instead of letting his mind drift to dark places.

"I'm not made of glass. Get what I'm saying? And I don't think this one is, either." Coach Mizoguchi stuck a thumb out at Oikawa.

Oikawa smiled to himself, then turned to Hajime in mock anger. "It is an _insult_ to us as athletes if _you_ think you can catch us off guard with a little body contact. Remember, Iwa-chan, you're dealing with the ace of Tohoku University's 2008 volleyball team and the best setter in Japan."

Coach Mizoguchi, who had seemed impressed that Oikawa knew about his college volleyball career, now looked confused. "Who's the best setter in Japan?"

Oikawa spluttered, gesturing nonsensically with his hands as he tried to respond. Coach Mizoguchi looked genuinely puzzled. Hajime laughed, for the first time today, until there were tears in his eyes. Yeah, he was as ready as he would ever be.

 

* * *

 

If only Hajime could feel that way now. The practice match against Wakutani Minami would begin as soon as warmups were over. He had played decently during the 3-on-3s yesterday, but Hajime knew he could do better. That alone was frustrating enough, but his usual demons also made their appearances.  _Pain. Betrayal. Loneliness. Fear._

To Hajime's surprise, the people who cheered him up the most were a guy he'd just met and a guy who hated his guts.

"Motocchi!" someone from the team cried.  
"Hey, it's Motomu!"  
"He's back from the dead!"

The quiet, unassuming middle blocker looked startled at all the attention. After greeting his friends, he spotted Hajime sitting alone on the sideline and joined him for some peace and quiet.

"Hey, uh, you okay?" asked Motomu after the two finished their introductions. "You don't look so good, and that's coming from me." Hajime had no basis for comparison, but he still noticed the way Motomu slumped as if exhausted, eyes slightly glazed over. He was sniffling a lot.

 _Am I really looking as rough as this guy is right now?_ " Yeah. I think. Maybe. Just feeling the pressure, I guess."

"Make that two of us. I still feel groggy from being in bed all week, and then Coach only bothers to tell me five minutes ago that the nurse said I could play today. I mean, I really want to, I just wish I didn't spend all afternoon stuffing my face with food trying to make up for four days of puking my brains out. And I can't get out of the math exam on Monday oh shit there's an exam on Monday oh my God how long do three set matches take again—"

"Whoa, hey." _Man, this guy is having a really, really shitty week._ Hajime felt for the guy but also found himself feeling extremely grateful that he didn't catch whatever Motomu had. "Try to take it easy if you can. The new libero is really good, if you feel worse I bet he'd cover for you if you tell him about it now. And Matsukawa was pretty on point at practice yesterday. Oh, and maybe just take it easy at first so you don't end up puking a fifth day," said Hajime.

"Oh, oh good. Yeah. Good. And that's good to know, I was wondering about him. Seriously thanks for the advice, man," Motomu said, then set off to look for Watari.

Then, there was Akao. He sat next to Hajime and looked straight ahead, not saying a word.

Hajime was about to talk about the _weather_  to fill the painful silence when Akao spoke. "My girlfriend."

_Huh?_

"She told me to try something today. Sort of seems like you should too."

_Where is this conversation going?!_

"She said, if you have some emotional... whatever... going on, pretend you're putting it all into the ball when you have plenty of time to get in position. And then smash the shit out of that thing. I just did it and it feels pretty good. Almost made a first year cry though, didn't see him on the court." Akao shrugged.

"Um, thanks? I'll... give it a try." Hajime hesitated.  _Wouldn't hurt to try and have a normal conversation with the captain. He did come here just to tell me that._ "It's cool that your girlfriend is interested in volleyball."

"She isn't really, but I told her a lot about the club. I used to hate it, you know? Teamwork and all that bullshit. But here, people notice when you do something good. They don't assume things based on how you look or what neighborhood you live in. If you're good, you play and you get to beat other people in other teams. If you suck, you get better. That's it."

Hajime smiled. This rude, abrasive guy is feeling more and more like a captain.

"Plus," Akao continued, "You're not so bad yourself. I wouldn't have met Fuyu-chan without your little 'practice' yesterday." The captain snickered, with a disturbingly satisfied look on his face.

_Fuyu-chan. Must be the girlfriend. But what does she have to do with me and yesterday and oh wait NO WAY—_

"You... and Himura-san... are together... because she came here to make me do chores." Hajime put the pieces together reluctantly.

"Yeah! I heard her coming up with all that crap for you to do so I had to talk to her. Her doing that was pretty hot, I wouldn—"

"OH-KAY well congratulations Captain I'm sure you're a great couple already _hey_ doesn't it look like Coach wants to talk to you?" Hajime all but yelled.

"Oh. Well, see ya. Try not to fall on your ass today." Akao punched Hajime on the shoulder before leaving. It hurt.

 

* * *

 

To Hajime's credit, at practice he had successfully done a full-speed run-up when Coach Mizoguchi was at the net. The guy was built and barely flinched when Hajime flew into him to reach and spike the ball. But it was still hard to go all out when it came to anyone else. The more he started to really like his teammates, the higher his anxiety peaked when there was any possibility of a collision. And then the more he cared, the harder he'd fall when they turned on him...

Oh. Hajime noticed, when his head was back in the match at hand. Now he was just spiking right into blocks.

The turning point for Hajime began when Watari said, "Senpai, every time your spike comes back is a chance for me to look really cool. I've got people to impress, so keep 'em coming!" He flashed Hajime a goofy grin and a thumbs up. _Cheeky bastard._ Hajime really liked Watari.

When Oikawa next sent Hajime a slow, high-arcing toss, Hajime imagined pouring his fear and anxiety into the ball before smashing it down. It hit the ground with a satisfying _BAM!_ No one on the opposing side could touch it. He really did feel and play better after doing that, but part of that might've been because his mind didn't have room for those demons from the past right now. It was too busy trying not to think about the captain, the class rep, and punishments... Hajime shuddered.

The whistle blew; Wakunan had won the first set.

"Ahh, but that last point was a good one, Iwa-chan," said Oikawa. Hajime's last point had narrowed the gap between Seijoh and Wakunan to just one point, but the service ace that Wakunan's pinch server landed had closed out the set. After the coaches gave some advice to the team for dealing with the opponent's talented wing spikers, Oikawa pulled Hajime aside once more.

"Hey. You're starting to look pretty good out there." Oikawa grinned. "Feeling okay too?"

Hajime frowned. He had way too many misses to qualify as "pretty good," but what he told Oikawa was "Yeah. Mostly."

There was something else on Hajime's mind, though. "Ever tell yourself not to think of something, but that ends up just making you think about it more?"

Oikawa tilted his head slightly to one side, not understanding Hajime's question. "I guess?"

"Well." Hajime wondered how he should put this. "It's really distracting so there's no room for negative thoughts. I guess that means it's helping, but I really don't want it to.."

"I don't really get it," said Oikawa, "but whatever's distracting you can't be that bad if it's working?"

"Uh. The captain told me something before the match and I can't stop imagining... I'll tell you later." 

Oikawa shrugged and walked away.

Hajime really was feeling much better by the middle of the second set, having made it that far without any injuries. Oikawa must have sensed something, because his tosses started getting faster, higher, more acrobatic. Much harder for the opponent to read. _He's brilliant. In total control_ , thought Hajime, and worked hard to keep up.

But it was too late. Many people underestimated Wakunan at first sight, with most of their current players at average or below average height. But Wakunan's captain was the spiritual successor to Karasuno High School's "Little Giant," a nationals-qualifying player known for skillful offensive maneuvers that more than compensated for his small physical size. And now it seems that the Wakunan captain was passing the torch to his kouhai, the other wing spiker on their team.

It was these "Twin Giants," as Oikawa was calling them, that Seijoh couldn't fully defend themselves against. They lost the practice match, 0 sets to 2.

Hajime knew it was just a practice match, but it was still hard to lose. He had messed up so many points for his team, after Oikawa believed in him so much and he just completely fu—

Oikawa nudged Hajime. "Hey. Good game." The setter grinned. "Let's go greet our fans."

" _Thank you very much!_ " The Seijoh team bowed to the students who came to watch.

Hajime wasn't surprised to hear girls screaming "Oikawa-kun, you're so cool!" and "We love you Oikawa-senpai!" But there were other shouts and cheers.

"Iwaizumi, offer's still open for the basketball club!"  
"Yeah, that guy can jump!"  
"Let's get Matsukawa and Akao too!"  
"Hey new guy and little new guy, good job!"  
"Kick ass at Interhigh, volleyball club!"  
"Man you guys looked _smooth_ out there. Take us to nationals this year!"  
"Hanamaki, Iwaizumi, you guys were awesome!"

Hajime was stunned. He had been cheered on by fans before, even praised by local media once or twice. But it was always _the ace and his team did this_ , _Iwaizumi and the team won that_. It never felt right. _You can only win with all six players on the court,_ Hajime had always thought.

At Yamagata East, Hajime told himself the discomfort was fine, fine if it helped put his team on the map. He didn't see that volleyball had morphed into something too heavy and lonely for him to bear for long. By the time Saito-san landed in the hospital, everyone saw Hajime's desire to help his team as greed and overconfidence. 

At Seijoh, everyone on the court flowed together, under the command of a setter who saw the best in everybody, experimented with how each player could add a new voice to the harmonious ensemble. Hajime could get addicted to it, he thought, the pride born from creating something greater than the sum of its parts with your teammates, comrades, friends. 

"Watch, Iwa-chan, we'll make them _all_  remember our names," Oikawa said under his breath, as he continued to smile and wave towards the stands with his head held high. Hajime looked at Oikawa in wonder before allowing himself a small smile, too. 

 

* * *

 

"Whoooaa," Makki interrupted, "The captain and our Ice Queen got together? And they just met? The man moves fast."

"Yeah, and before the match he said something about Himura-san, or I guess 'Fuyu-chan', being hot when she was... punishing... me _oh God ugh it's even worse when I say it out loud._ " Hajime shuddered.

It was Oikawa's turn to be shocked. "No you _didn't_."

"Didn't what?"

"Iwa-chan. This is very serious." Oikawa placed a hand on Hajime's shoulder. "Please tell me you did NOT think about the captain and your class rep doing the dirty for the entire practice match."

Issei giggled. "'Doing the dirty', seriously, Oikawa?"

"I'll have you know that my delicate sensibilities inhibit my ability to use coarse language." Oikawa sniffed. Takahiro and Issei laughed. "But Iwa-chaaan, you're not answering the question!"

"... It was only for part of a set. And then all of the next set," Hajime mumbled.

Everyone burst into laughter. Takahiro had started making some kind of wheezing sound from falling into hysterics. "W-we only played t-two sets, Ha-Ha-Hajime." 

"You dumbasses,  _shut up,"_ growled Hajime _._  Where are we going?" The four second years had been trying to figure where to eat after the match, before Oikawa remembered Hajime had something to tell him. _Well, at least everyone else would have that image in their heads and suffer with me,_ thought Hajime.

"I want milk bread!" announced Oikawa.  
"I want cream puffs!" Takahiro added.

"Oh hey," Hajime said. "You guys know how much my mom loves pastries, right? She found some place called 'Three Rivers' that's supposed to be really good, if you want—"

" _NO!_ " yelled Oikawa.

"Whoa, calm down. What's with you?" Hajime said in surprise.

"I... don't... I don't really like it there." Oikawa said, trailing off. But his enthusiasm was back in an instant. "If it's milk bread it's gotta be the store-bought kind."

"Wait, seriously?" Hajime asked. _Oikawa is so weird._ "That over a fancy bakery?"

"Too good for a convenience store, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa argued.

"No, I just didn't think someone with 'delicate sensibilities' would turn down a classy place like that." Hajime knew Oikawa was picking a fight, but he didn't take the bait after all. "My mom got some of their cream puffs the other day, they're really good and I don't even like sweet stuff that much." Secretly, Hajime was relieved. He almost asked his mom to add milk bread to her order from Three Rivers Bakery this morning. Of course, he didn't have any particular reason in mind or anything...

Hajime thought he saw Oikawa blush lightly, but Oikawa turned away before he could tell for sure. Hajime turned to the others. "What do you guys think?"

Issei shrugged. Takahiro, however, was on Hajime's side. "I don't know, this bakery place sounds pretty interesting _OW damn it Tooru not in the shins_ orrrrr maybe not," Takahiro finished as he hopped on one foot for a few steps.

"Pre-packaged milk bread, here we come!" Oikawa cheered, throwing a fist in the air. Hajime could swear that Oikawa's eyes were actually twinkling.

Hajime smiled to himself. If it meant that the four of them could be together like this, then coming to Seijoh was definitely the right thing to do.

 

* * *

 

"Hajimeeee, I thought you didn't have anything after school yesterday! I wanted to see you before I went back to work," Hajime's mom complained with a pout. Her school had started on Monday too, and teachers were always busy during the first week.

"Sorry, mom. I did make you guys that stew Friday morning so that you could have a decent dinner when I'm not around. If that makes it any better." Hajime's mom would eat a cheesecake for dinner if she could. He's pretty sure his uncle watched her do it, once.

"I hope you're not implying that I only wanted to see my only child so that he could do my chores feed me," she laughed. "Although it was very delicious, thank you, and I do want you to pick up my order today please!" Of course Hajime would do it; his mom ordered something from her new favorite bakery to celebrate the end of the first week of school, and she had been looking forward to it for days.

"Now that we've addressed all the important stuff, how's Seijoh been so far?" she joked.

"Okay. I had a practice match yesterday. We lost though."

Hajime's mom dropped the sugar scoop she was holding into her coffee. Some of it splashed on her shirt. She seemed too intent on staring at her son to notice.

"Had a practice match, as in you _played volleyball_? On the school team?"

"Yeah."

"Are you okay? Were Takahiro and Issei with you? Did anything happen? Oh, Hajime..." She started fussing over him, inspecting his face, neck, arms.

"Mom are you trying to see if I got beat up or something? Because I didn't."

"Oh. Good." She sat back down, obviously relieved.

"The guys were there, yeah. Actually Coach Mizoguchi was there too, he works at Aoba Johsai now." Seeing even more relief on his mom's face, Hajime continued. "It's still... weird. But I think they're good people."

"I'm not proud to say this, but that's what you thought the last time..." his mom said.

Hajime sighed. "Yeah, I know." He couldn't put his finger on why he felt all right with the Seijoh team. It's true that there's always a chance that everyone would turn on him and his family again. But with that team, with how it felt like to be on the court with them, laugh and cry with them, Hajime just had a good feeling.

"Well," Hajime's mom said with a grin, pretending to crack her knuckles, "I'm prepared this time. None of my students live in Miyagi, so I can take these stinkin' parents down one by one—"

"Mom!" Hajime laughed. He suspected that she was still upset about the volleyball players' parents—her friends—turning their backs on her, but the idea of his mom 'taking someone down' was still completely ridiculous. After all, it was his mom who gave him an umbrella to put in the garden when he had discovered those ants on a sweltering summer day.

"Best mom ever," she continued, "Protecting her poor, tiny, helpless son with moves learned from Shaolin masters in the mists of Mount—"

"Oh my God mom you're so weird!" He loved it. "Well, isn't it kind of mean to make your 'poor, tiny, helpless son' go to another prefecture—"

"That bakery is an actual, literal mile away, I can show you—" she pulled out her phone, scrolling to the map app.

"—Jogging can be part of your training, you know," Hajime teased.

His mom looked up from her phone, concern evident in her expression. "But if I go I'd have to wait until— But I—"

She looked so legitimately crestfallen now that Hajime felt bad for joking around. _Crap. I_ have _been encouraging her to exercise, she thinks I'm serious._ This was an easy fix, though.

"Well, if you let me have a piece of anything that's not too sweet, I'll accept that as payment. In fact, I'll get ready to go now if you promise!"

Hajime could swear her eyes were twinkling now that nothing stood between her and her dessert. Wait a minute, where had he seen that look...

"I got you half a dozen croissants in that order." 

"Okay, _now_ you're the best mom ever." They laughed. He squeezed her hand briefly and headed out the door.

 

* * *

 

Hajime waited for his mom's order outside Three Rivers Bakery, soaking in the sunlight and enjoying the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through an open window. The bakery had a small, grassy front yard, with wildflowers planted around the perimeter. Two cafe table sets were set up, but Hajime preferred sitting on the lawn, running his fingers through the cool, lush grass.

He was happy that his mom found this place she loved so much, and that it was because she had gone on a walk with him to check out the school. He really wanted his parents to associate good things and pleasant thoughts with Seijoh—just like he was starting to himself.

Plus, despite all the teasing, he really didn't mind coming here. Yes, it actually was 1.01 miles away; he checked, hoping that he could tease her for exaggerating. _Oh well_. So it was an easy walk, and the woman at the counter had been very kind just now. _And beautiful_ , he thought. Tall, slender, pale skin and long, sandy-colored hair. Probably his parents' age. Hajime hoped she was as nice as she seemed; if she was, he should come up with some kind of plan for her and his mom to be friends.

Hajime had just closed his eyes to consider this when he heard the sound of breaking glass.

"Shit," someone hissed.

"Hey," Hajime called as he rubbed his eyes and got to his feet. "I bet the people inside have a dust. pan..."

Oikawa was crouched on the ground, grabbing at shards of glass. His lips trembled slightly as he looked up at Hajime.

"You're such a dumbass!" Hajime nearly yelled, exasperated. "Here, stop that, let me go ask the people inside—"

"No!" Oikawa gasped. "It's fine!" He was obviously trying to be quiet, basically stage whispering for some reason. 

Hajime didn't see the need to play along; he was sure the woman inside wouldn't mind. "No it's not, you're bleeding! Here, give me—"

He reached for Oikawa's hand, holding it gently while reaching in his pocket for a handkerchief. "Why are you here anyway? I thought you liked convenience stores more than—"

Oikawa had turned bright red. _Is he really that embarrassed?_ Hajime didn't understand why Oikawa could drag him around in front of the coaches with a death grip on his arm, yet blush like this when Hajime was barely holding his hand (for medical reasons, obviously). 

"OI! NO FIGHTING ON MY PROPERTY!" A man's voice boomed from inside. "Arguing, throwing glass, comparing my bakery to a conveniENCE STORE?" His voice crescendoed at the end, punctuated by the smack of a window swinging open and hitting the wall.

All Hajime could think was _Holy shit_. Inside was a man with the broadest shoulders and most muscular arms Hajime had ever seen. He supposed bakers developed a lot of upper body strength as a matter of course, but _damn_. The man's physique, sharply chiseled jaw, and intense scowl ( _Is that a scar on his face?!_ ) all screamed 'intimidating.'

Hajime was still holding Oikawa's hand with both of his own, pressing the handkerchief against the bloody finger. Oikawa tried to pull away, but most of Hajime's attention was spent on suppressing his fight or flight (leaning heavily towards flight) instincts.

To Hajime's own surprise, he decided to confront the man. "Sir, there was no fighting, he just dropped a bottle. And I mean no disrespect but people are entitled to their own opinions an—"

"You." The man interrupted in a low, soft voice. _Oh,_  thought Hajime, _this is waaaay scarier._ "Who are you and why are you—" the man spluttered a bit, finding his words. "—Why are you  _caressing_ my son's hand?"

 _"WHAT?!"_ Hajime yelled, dropping Oikawa's hand like it was made of hot coal. Without thinking, he held his own hands above his head as if under arrest.

"Daaaadd—" Oikawa whined. "Stop being embarrassing!"

 _BAM!_ The front door flew open now, slamming against the bakery's wall. "What. Exactly. Is _going on_ with all this _yelling_?" The beautiful woman Hajime met earlier stood in the doorway, seething. Hajime suddenly felt very, very low on the food chain and _ohhh she's definitely Oikawa's mom because this is where he gets That Look that made Akao-san as meek as a bunny—_

"Nothing, Mom!" Oikawa's voice was half an octave higher than usual. "Iwa-chan was just—" Oikawa choked. He covered his mouth with his free hand.

"Iwa-chan?"  
_"Iwa-chan?"_ Oikawa's parents both said. His mom rushed inside, slamming the door shut behind her. Oikawa's dad retreated from the window.

"Oikawa." Hajime said flatly.

Oikawa turned his head, trying to look anywhere but at Hajime, which was difficult because Hajime was standing _right in front of him_.

A faint pink dusted Oikawa's cheeks. "W-Welcome to my home..."

 

* * *

 

 _Today's the gift that keeps on giving_ , Hajime thought dryly, as they soon heard very loud, very clear voices coming from inside.

"Tooru was right, you _were_ being embarrassing!" 

"I didn't know! How was I supposed to know? You try staying calm when you see some real good looking guy holding Tooru's hand like that!"

"Don't you recognize him? Of course not, your memory is terrible. But I even told you last night that someone named Iwaizumi in Yamagata made an order. But noooo, that memory—"

"Babe I'm gonna keep saying this until you forgive me _I'm sorry_ I forgot our anniversary I'll make it up to you in whatever way you—"

"LAH-LA-LA _such_ a nice day, right Iwa-chan?" Oikawa yelled. He still wasn't looking at Hajime.

"Oh. Yeah! Yes. Ah. Nice day. For," Hajime was 5000% sure both he and Oikawa didn't want to hear the rest of that conversation, but Hajime couldn't think of anything to say. He looked around wildly. "Nice day for, ah, dropping glass... ?"

Oikawa closed his eyes and sighed. Just then, his parents came back outside with huge smiles on their faces. Oikawa's dad threw an arm around Hajime. "Iwa-c—" 

Hajime barely saw it, but Oikawa's mom delivered a swift kick at her husband.

 _"GAH not in the shin ahem_ Iwaizumi-kun! Come in, come in," Oikawa's dad said with a broad smile.

Hajime stuttered. "Uh. Th-Thank. Thank you, sir _whoa-'_ kay we're walking."

Oikawa's mom tugged on Hajime's wrist, leading him into a nearly empty room behind the front counter. Her husband kept slapping his back and saying how he'd been looking forward to this. Every slap forced Hajime to stumble a little bit, taking one or two extra steps.

The four of them squeezed around one of the small cafe tables that Oikawa's dad had then brought inside ( _it only took him one trip Jesus Christ_ ). If Hajime wasn't equal parts terrified and confused, he would've found the scene funny. Or even a little bit charming. Instead, he sat quietly and willed himself to not die on the spot. His only consolation was that Oikawa and his dad looked equally awkward. His mom, though, calmly sipped at a cup of tea and smiled pleasantly.

"Sorry we're sitting inside on such a nice day," Oikawa's dad began. "Gotta stay close to those ovens!"

His wife chimed in. "And normally we'd take you upstairs to our home, but we can barely hear customers come in up there. Ah, I'm so embarrassed!" She held a hand to her heart. Hajime was starting to suspect that Oikawa picked up all of his dramatic ( _but cute_ ) poses and flippant ( _but dorky and adorable_ ) gestures from his mom.

Oikawa's mom then reached towards her son. "If  _Tooru,_ " she said, poking him in the shoulder, "had  _told_ (poke) us that his  _friend_  (poke) would be stopping by (poke), we would've been able to set something much nicer up for us." Oikawa sat with his face in his hands, not resisting his mother's teasing at all.

"Oh yes I mean no of course no problem." The words came tumbling out of Hajime's mouth. There was something else he needed to tell them right away. "Ah. Oikawa-san. Oikawa-sans, the two of. Both. I'm sorry about. Oikawa. Outside. I. Outside."

"Oh! That. That's all right, son! You kids hold hands alllll you want. He winked at Hajime then again at his son.

"DAD," The youngest Oikawa shrieked, "oh my _guhhh_ this, what is happeningggggg." He covered his face with his hands again.

"Ah, how rude of us," Oikawa's mom said, ignoring her son. "We haven't introduced ourselves. Oikawa Tamiko, and my husband Takeshi."

"It's nice to meet you both," Hajime said carefully. "I'm Iwaizumi Hajime, I'm a second year at Aoba Johsai wi—"

"Oh we know, my dear. We know," Tamiko said, sipping at her tea again. She winked too. What is with this family and winking?

Inside, Hajime was screaming _Why?! How do you know?!_  The logical answer was that Oikawa talked about him at home. But Hajime didn't dare to hope; it just wasn't possible. They've known each other for a week, if that. Why would Hajime even come up in conversation?

They heard an alarm go off in the distance. "That's my cue," Takeshi said. "I must _riiiise_ to the occasion," he stood, standing up and posing like Superman in flight. "And put those _puns_ in the oven! Hah! I just came up with that one!" He clapped Hajime on the back once more and left the room, laughing heartily.

" _Uggghhh_ I can't," Oikawa said dramatically. "Mom, I'm gonna go wash my finger and clean up outside before any customers come." He leaned towards his mother and said, softly, "I specifically waited until Dad was gone to leave Iwa-chan, so can you promise to behave?"

"Of course, my love," she responded. "And thank you for thinking of the customers and cleaning up the glass." She kissed him on the cheek, watching fondly as he left.

Oikawa's mom _kept_ watching him until he was outside with a broom and dustpan. She peeked out the window. "My little Tooru, always a perfectionist. So careful and thorough." With a satisfied look on her face, she went behind the counter and pulled out something the size of a pizza box, but twice as deep. "Okay, here's our cha~nce!" she trilled excitedly, bringing the item to Hajime. There was a sharp glint in her eyes as she smiled deviously and opened the massive photo album.

 

* * *

 

What Tooru didn't know then was that it would've been much, much less embarrassing to leave Iwa-chan with his dad.

Tooru should have been suspicious when he could hear his mother and Iwa-chan laughing inside. _Well, Mom is very charming. They're probably just getting to know each other like normal people, not like Dad... ugh. 'Puns in the oven.'_

He really should've been suspicious a little later, when his mom asked, "While you're in the kitchen, could you make Hajime-kun a cup of coffee before you leave?"

Tooru paused. _Huh? Did she call him—_

He really, _really_ should've been suspicious when he heard Iwa-chan say, between giggles, "No cream or sugar, please!" But because he was still reeling from seeing Iwa-chan in his house, his mind wasn't as sharp as usual. In this state, the odd combination of "Iwa-chan" and "giggle" didn't raise any red flags for Tooru at all.

It was a miracle then, really, that Tooru didn't drop the cup of coffee when he saw his mom and Iwa-chan sitting side by side, giant photo album across both of their laps. They were looking at a two-page spread of his third birthday party. The one where he danced naked on the table and sat on his cake. Then ate the cake. 

"Oh, darling, if you would've let the coffee brew here, you could've looked at all the bathtub pictures with us!"

That was the limit. He set Iwa-chan's coffee down on the counter.

"MOOOOMMMM!" Tooru roared. He flew at the photo album. His mom and Iwa-chan calmly lifted it above their heads together, watching Tooru grab at nothing and then trip over their laps. Still holding the album safely above, Tooru's mom reached over her son to fetch her cup of tea. She took a long sip and sighed with satisfaction.

"Well, Hajime-kun, since your mother enjoys tea, I insist on sending some home with you. This particular Earl Grey will complement her lemon tart spectacularly."

"Oh, no, please, Oikawa-san," Hajime replied in a hurry. "I mean, she'd probably like that, but let me pay for it, at least."

"Nonsense." She waved Hajime off. "Tooru, would you set aside some of the new Earl Grey, please?"

 

* * *

 

 _Tooru, Tooru, Tooru._  Hajime tested the name out in his mind; he would never actually use it out loud. But getting to know the determined, hard-working, slightly violent, pompous, confident, aggravating, talented volleyball player and school idol, now mixed with this adorable, soft, loving, easily embarrassed, sweet, considerate boy in front of him, made  _Oikawa_  feel too impersonal, too distant.

Hajime couldn't deny it any more: the scales have tipped from _who the hell is this idiot_ and _why is he so interesting_  to _hey_ _, remember that idiot? I'm probably starting to fall for him_.

 

* * *

 

"Hajime! Welcome ho— _oly crap_ what did you do and how much did you charge to my credit card?" Hajime's mom had expected to see her son return with two boxes of baked goods, not _six_. Plus a full tote bag.

"Don't worry, just however much the tart and croissants were supposed to cost. The rest is, um, 

 _Well, Mom, the owners of the bakery somehow already knew me and liked me even though we just met today so they gave me all of this_ is the real explanation, but that would probably raise a lot of questions he didn't have the answer to.

So Hajime settled for, "Um, the bakery owners' son is the vice captain of the Seijoh volleyball team, so..."

He trailed off so he didn't have to lie, exactly. And then quickly, before she could push for details, "Oikawa-san, ah, my friend's mom, she took your order on the phone? She and her husband own the bakery. She said to ask if you and Dad would like to have tea or coffee with them. Since we're practically neighbors."

Hajime had considered not telling her this; the image of his parents sharing embarrassing stories and pictures with Tooru's parents was a tough one to accept. But he was so very glad he did, when he saw his mom's face light up and watched her run off to tell his dad.

_Happy first week of school, Mom. I think this year is gonna be way better._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 15k words as of this chapter! I think there might be many, many more. THANK YOU to everyone who has browsed read kudos'd subscribed bookmarked commented etc. Writing this fic is my stress relief, but seeing you interested in it has also been very healing! Thank you thank you thank you.
> 
> Notes for the chapter:  
> Of course, the younger Wakunan wing spiker is Nakashima Takeru! 
> 
> Confession: Motomu was out sick for the whole week because I forgot the team needed a second MB, and I already uploaded the first-practice chapter. 
> 
> Tooru's third birthday party may or may not be from personal experience...


	6. Behind your eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Tooru was always like this, drifting closer then drifting away, back, and forth, back, and forth. Like the stray cat Hajime loved years ago, coming and going as she pleased. Wild and out of reach when Hajime wanted to catch her the most, then sidling up to him, gently nudging him into the sunshine when he was sad or lonely._

" _Goddamn_ it, Makki!" _BAM_. The locker door rattled after impact.

"Tooru, I'm sorry, I—"

"Sorry? Why are _you_ sorry?" Tooru's laugh was a coarse and angry sound. "It's me. It's all me. What am I supposed to do?!" _BAM_.

"Tooru, you're gonna hurt your hand! ... For now, what if you take the day off? Clear your head? I can go talk to Coach if you just wanna leave," Takahiro said.

Tooru hissed. "I'm _not_ missing practice when we're this close to Interhigh. The only way I would is if Coach kicks me off the team or if I can't walk or jump or toss a ball any more."

"God, Tooru..." Takahiro whispered. Then, desperately, he said, "Everything turned out okay before, right? Why wouldn't it be the same this time?"

Tooru was almost screaming, now. "Because it's worse every day, Makki, and I don't have time to just _fucking_ _piss_ —" _BAM_. "— _around!_ " _BAM_.

Takahiro didn't respond. The two of them stayed silent for a long time.

"Oh. I just did something strange, didn't I?" Tooru murmured, after taking a few ragged breaths.

And then it was like a different person was in the room.

"Well, Makki, let's go~ wouldn't want to be la-ate!" Tooru sang, and left the locker room.

Once the door to the gym opened and closed a second time, it was Hajime's turn to pound  _his_ fist into a locker.  _No, stop. Tooru was fine after they lost to Wakunan and practices have been going even better since_ , he reasoned with himself.  _He can't be this angry about a practice match that happened weeks ago._

But that voice. _"Well, Makki, let's go~!"_ Tooru sounded like he always did, bright and cheerful, even though he obviously was not feeling that way. _What if Tooru's mood has been fake all along?_

Hajime couldn't stop his hand from shaking as he walked into the gym for practice.

"Iwa-chan! Good, you're early too." Tooru beamed. "It's your favorite today! Remedial spiking!"

 _Good,_ Hajime thought. He'd have a chance to talk to Tooru.

Tooru waved one of the first years over. "And, your setter for the day."

"Yahaba Shigeru," the newcomer introduced himself and nodded politely.

Yahaba. This is the first reserve setter, Hajime remembered, next best after Tooru. Hadn't the coaches just said the starting lineup wouldn't change for their next match? So Hajime wasn't getting kicked off, and neither was Tooru. Then why—

 _Because he's avoiding you_ , Hajime's brain supplied.  
_Because he's frustrated as fuck with you_ , it corrected.  
_Because you lost the match_ , another voice chimed in.  
_Because you're wrong for this team_ , they said in unison.

"Hello? Earth to Iwa-chan?"

Hajime almost jumped when Tooru spoke. "Hn?"

"Still here? Or is your head as empty as it looks?" Tooru teased.

Hajime scrambled to say something, anything to stop his thoughts from distorting his expression. "N-no, just thinking about how you're slacking off, making a kouhai do all of your work."

_Why the fuck did I just—_

Tooru didn't respond, just gave a weak smile then waved as he walked away. He didn't say another word to Hajime for the rest of practice.

 

* * *

 

Tooru wasn't at practice the next day.

Or the next.

Or the day after that.

"The vice-captain? Nah, he hasn't been in class either." Motomu told Hajime.

The rational part of Hajime knew that Tooru probably just got whatever bug Motomu had. But _because he's avoiding you_  and _because you let him down_ still echoed in his mind. He needed to make things better somehow, make up for losing the match for the team. As tempted as Hajime was, he decided against asking Hiro or Issei for Tooru's number. He'd work on figuring out the right thing to say, first.

Or not.

As quickly as he'd disappeared, Tooru was back. "Hm? Where's Makki?" He asked, leaning casually against the wall by the school gate.

 _Where were you? Are you okay?_ Hajime couldn't ask any of these questions. Instead, he just answered, "He, ah, I think he's hanging out with Issei." 

"Makkiiii. He forgot about our daaate!" Tooru whined.

 _Oh._ "Have you texted him? I can—" Hajime reached for his phone.

"I choose _you_ , Iwa-chan!" Tooru declared with his head held high, one hand on his hip and the other pointing right at Hajime.

"Haah?" Apparently words were difficult for Hajime, today.

" _I_ still have a date to go on whether Makki is here or not. I appoint you, Player Number 4, as his official substitute. Now come on!" Tooru grabbed Hajime's wrist and and started pulling him down the sidewalk.

"Player 4?" Hajime asked weakly.

Tooru held up his hand and counted on his fingers. "I'm 1 because I'm the best. Mattsun is an angel, so he's 2. Makki gets to be 3 because he's nice and eats ice cream with me, which makes you 4. Try and keep up, Iwa-chan."

Tooru was always like this, drifting closer then drifting away, back, and forth, back, and forth. Like the stray cat Hajime loved years ago, coming and going as she pleased. Wild and out of reach when Hajime wanted to catch her the most, then sidling up to him, gently nudging him into the sunshine when he was sad or lonely.

 

* * *

 

"Oikawa, that's... do you always eat like this? And shouldn't your Belgian waffle have, you know, a waffle?

Hajime and Tooru were at a small cafe in the park near school. They sat outside, watching kids play volleyball on the makeshift court where the two of them had met. Hajime had a cup of coffee in front of him, while Tooru was happily digging into what was apparently a mound of berries and whipped cream. Hajime assumed Tooru was flirting when he'd beckoned a waiter over and whispered in her ear, but now he's pretty sure Tooru was just adding several sides of cream to his order.

"Well, yeah. Wouldn't you, if your parents ran a bakery?" Tooru explained, then ate another big spoonful. 

"I don't know, I hear diabetes can be hard on a person," said Hajime. 

Tooru laughed. "Like I said, Iwa-chan, no joy in your life."

They sat in amicable silence, occasionally pointing out something funny happening with the kids on the court or a cute puppy passing through. Hajime didn't want to interrogate Tooru about the team and Yahaba and what he overheard now; it would undoubtedly shatter this precious atmosphere. Yeah, he was only a substitute, stumbling into Tooru by sheer chance. But this still felt like a date, truly precious because it was Hajime's first and because it was with _Tooru_.

He wondered if Hiro's dates with Tooru were always like this and felt a raw surge of envy.

"Iwa-chan," Tooru said, softly.

"Yeah?"

Tooru put his fork down and looked Hajime in the eye. Hajime was alarmed at what he saw. Usually, those lights behind Tooru's eyes were a slow-burning fire, always determined and powerful. He knew these looks were quicksilver, just like his moods; a glittery sparkle when he was eating milk bread, a cold, steely glint when he eyed an opponent across the court, a white hot flash of pure lightning when he somehow _knew_  his serve would be a no-touch ace.

But now. Hajime saw cooling embers. They would flare and try to reignite, fail, retreat to a dim glow. The light pulsed like this, always lacking the energy and substance of actual flames.

"I'm so sorry," Tooru said through shaky breaths. "I knew you were suffering. Mattsun said so too. I knew about your feelings and pulled you onto the court anyway. I just wanted to _so badly_ and I'm selfish and I'm sorry." He closed his eyes.

"Oikawa. It was my choice in the end. I think a part of me always hated quitting, had loved the thrill and wanted to experience that again. I'm still not... I can do better. I'll get there. But I'm playing volleyball because I want to." _And I think I'd follow you anywhere._

"Really?" Tooru looked up, hopeful.

"Yeah, really." Hajime nodded. "I mean, you _were_ pretty pushy and whiny about it—"

"Hey!" Tooru complained.

"—but I think I needed it. A push. In the right direction. So really, I should be thanking you."

Hajime looked at Tooru to see how he would respond.

_God, that smile. He's back._

"TOORU!" A boy with a toothy grin yelled from the court. "Come play with us!"

"Kids from my volleyball class," Tooru told Hajime, then shouted back, "You're supposed to call me Oikawa-san, remember?"

Hajime rolled his eyes but stood up anyway. "Let's go?"

"Yeah. It'll be fun."

 

* * *

 

When they got to the grassy court, the kid who had called Tooru over was arguing with his three friends.

"He should do a serve!"  
"No, spikes!"  
"No, serves are cooler!"  
"Let's vote then!"  
"That's not fair! You guys are gonna win then!"

"Why can't it be both?" Tooru asked, smiling brightly.

"YEAH!"  
"Tooru, show us!"

"Hmm, you know you should wait at least 30 minutes after you eat before exercising," Tooru reminded them, "and I _just_ had a snack. But you're in luck! This mean looking guy is actually the ace of Aoba Johsai's team! He only drank gross coffee just now, so he can show you! Riiight, _sensei?_ "

Hajime snorted when Tooru looked at him with sparkling puppy dog eyes. He stuck a hand in Tooru's face, blocking it from view. "Knock it off, you idi— _oh_. Uhh."

All four kids had joined Tooru, wearing cute pouts and hopeful looks. It was like looking at a basket of kittens.

"Pleeeeeease?" The smallest girl shyly held a volleyball out to Hajime.

_Nope, not winning this fight._

Hajime took the ball and smiled at the girl. "Should be safe to toss on a full stomach, yeah?" He passed the ball to Tooru and got into position at the net. Tooru grinned.

 

* * *

 

When one of the kids' dads came over to chat with Tooru, Hajime was a little worried about what to do. Without any younger relatives, he'd never really been around kids before. _What do I do with them? Do you have to talk to them a certain way?_  But these kids were just fine chattering away about anything and everything, not leaving Hajime any room to talk. (He was very happy about this arrangement.)

What was even better was that the kids were curious and quick learners when it came to volleyball. Soon, Hajime was teaching the kids things like how to angle themselves when they get ready to spike, what the arm motion should look like, how to work on timing.

The kids started making requests. "I can't ever receive right! Can you show us how?" and "If Tooru can't show us a serve right now, you can right?" Hajime gulped at this last request. He hadn't planned on showing them a jump serve, not being confident enough to use it in a match and not wanting to let the kids down by messing it up here.

But the kids got all cute and kitten-y on him again, and he caved.

Of course, there was nothing to be worried about. Hajime laughed when the kids cheered at his serves, even though a lot of them were going into the net or out of bounds. They really just wanted to see the jumping and hitting part, and after the second or third serve Hajime already forgot why he'd hesitated before.

He was taking a break, watching the kids toss and receive to each other, when one of them broke away from the group. The boy looked up at Hajime with interest. "Are you Iwa-chan-san?"

"Uh. Am I who?" _Tooru's parents were about to call me Iwa-chan,_ _too,_ Hajime recalled. _So there're more people who know who I am?_

"I-wa-chan-san," The boy enunciated loudly. "Tooru said to come today if we wanted to see you do—"

" _WHOA heeeey_ kids I think your parents are ready to go!" Tooru yelled as he rushed over, covering his student's mouth with his hand. He guided the boy away from Hajime, gently but firmly pushing him towards his friends.

"Hey! Jeez Tooru, you're so weird sometimes," the boy laughed as he shoved Tooru's arm out of his way and ran off.

Tooru was blushing furiously when he returned to where Hajime was waiting. "Cute kids huh?" His voice was abnormally high. "You know they tell the _funniest_ stories... hah, hah..." He trailed off and turned his head to the side, not looking at Hajime.

Hajime waited patiently, trying not to look too smug. Tooru tried to sneak a look at him. As soon as they made eye contact, Tooru all but ran back to the cafe without saying a word.

Hajime followed, chuckling to himself.

 

* * *

 

"—And that's how he ended up eating a bento that only had pickles in it."

Hajime and Issei laughed. They were at Issei's house playing video games after practice one day, and Issei was telling Hajime stories about the team last year. He wasn't sure if Hajime still felt like an outsider; practices were going better and better, and both coaches said that they were confident about Seijoh's chances at Interhigh. But just in case, Issei thought that filling in some of the blanks for Hajime would help him feel less lost.

"You know, this is really weird," said Hajime.

"That Sonic can't swim and Tails can?"

Hajime laughed. "That neither of us have died in over five minutes because we don't have two dumbasses dancing in front of the TV or throwing chips at us."

The more the four of them spent time together, the more he loved this odd little quartet they were in. Issei smiled fondly at this thought. But for so, so many reasons it was nice to hang out just with Hajime for once.

"It makes hanging out less expensive," he told Hajime. _Like I'd ever tell Hajime the biggest reason._

"How?" Hajime was puzzled. "Now there're only two of us paying for pizza."

"I'd rather pay for half of a pizza than pay for a quarter of a pizza plus a new chair or lamp," Issei replied. 

Hajime laughed. "Good point. Man, I'm gonna sound like my dad, but I wish I still had that much energy."

"Same. I guess we're the old men in our group, huh," said Issei.

"Pretty sure those two would agree." Hajime rolled his eyes, thinking about all the times Tooru had already called him an old man.

Issei gave Hajime a knowing smile. "But seriously, how do they do it? Tooru's _still_ at school, apparently—"

"What." Hajime cut in.

"Uh," Issei began. He had a bad feeling about this. "Hiro's thing ended early so he wanted to come over. I guess he asked Tooru to come too, but Tooru said he was at the gym practicing serves."

" _Damn it._ " The words were abrupt, sharp. Issei flinched.

"Arrrgghh, what the hell is he thinking!?" Hajime ran a hand through his hair, pulling at it in frustration. "Hey, sorry, I gotta go check on him. Um..." He was flipping through his wallet.

"Lose something?" said Issei, in what he hoped was a steady voice.

"No, money for the pizza," Hajime muttered to his wallet, too distracted to look at Issei. "You shouldn't have to—"

"Just go, Hajime," Issei sighed.

And then Hajime snapped out of it. "Sorry. Seriously? I'll definitely buy next time. You really are an angel!" Hajime was already halfway out the door before he finished the sentence.

_Angel, huh. Tooru's really rubbing off on him._

Issei grabbed his phone.

 **Matsukawa Issei** : Hey want half a pizza?

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : You have that much left over??

 **Matsukawa Issei** : Hajime left

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : Did something happen

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : Is he ok

 **Matsukawa Issei** : I told him Tooru was at school and he ran off

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : Oh

 **Matsukawa Issei** : He likes Tooru, doesn't he.

 **Matsukawa Issei** : Hiro

 **Matsukawa Issei** : Hiro.

 **Matsukawa Issei** : Right. Fuck

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : Shit Issei do you like him?

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : AHHH SORRY

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : I should've left you guys alone

 **Matsukawa Issei** : It's fine

 **Matsukawa Issei** : It was gonna happen at some point

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : Ugh it's sad that you're right

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : What do you want

 **Matsukawa Issei** : What from Hajime?

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : No what do you want from the store

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : So I can bring it to you

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : When I come eat pizza

 **Matsukawa Issei** : No it's fine I'm feeling better

 **Matsukawa Issei** : But thanks

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : Issei

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : You promised me pizza

 **Matsukawa Issei** : True

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : I DEMAND SATISFACTION

 **Matsukawa Issei** : Movie? Something funny

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** : See you in 10

 

* * *

 

 _Of course_ the stupid gym was locked. Hajime pounded on the door but stopped when he realized Tooru was (hopefully) smart enough to ignore someone trying to get in this time of night. He was about to text Issei for Tooru's number, though Tooru's phone was probably in a locker...

"You! What was your name again? Iwaizumi?" An unfamiliar voice called. 

Hajime jumped, but relaxed when he recognized the newcomer. "Oh! Yes. You're the soccer coach."

"Leave something at school? Here." The coach said. He unlocked the door and held it open.

"Oh my God thank you. So much. Umm... We don't have practice tomorrow, so if you need me to run water to the soccer fields again I'll do it." Hajime offered.

The soccer coach looked at Hajime, wide-eyed, but his expression quickly turned into a happy and grateful one. "Hah! Must've left something important in there, huh. You're on. 6:30 sharp tomorrow morning. Make sure the door closes all the way when you leave."

"Thank you!" Hajime bowed to the coach, and then ran inside the gym. Tooru was already walking towards him.

"Iwa-chan?" 

Hajime growled. He wanted to grab Tooru by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. " _What the hell do you think you're doing?_ You should be resting! Weren't you out sick a few days ago?"

Tooru's expression darkened. "I'm fine," he snarled.

"You're being stupid, Oikawa. Are you trying to injure yourself?" Hajime was too angry to notice the slightly condescending air surrounding his words. 

" _No_ , I'm trying to make sure we take down Shiratorizawa and win," said Tooru, turning away from Hajime to go back to practicing. 

No, no. Something's wrong, Hajime realized. This wasn't the rock-solid determination from _we will rule the court_  and _we'll make them all remember our names_. This was anxiety and fear and _again_ that awful sense of despair.

"Why the hell are you being like this right now?" Hajime yelled. "We're finally doing okay. Better than okay. I'm not fucking things up for the team that much any more. If we don't win Interhigh there's another one next year, we have two Spring High tournaments—"

"Shut up! SHUT UP!" Tooru covered his face with both of his hands.

 _Wait a minute_. A little bit of guilt surfaced in Hajime's mind. _Maybe it's what I said the other day?_

"Oikawa," Hajime tried again, gently, cautiously. "You work harder than anyone on the team. We all know that. But we have time! I'm sorry I joked about you slacking off, I—"

"Not everything is about you, Iwaizumi!" Tooru snapped. "Don't act like you understand everything!"

Hajime was surprised that just hearing his own name would put such a bitter taste in his mouth. But Hajime had to push on, to talk some sense into Tooru. "I do understand that you want us to be an amazing team, but all you're doing now is breaking us! Do you think landing a couple more serves during a match will take us to nationals? The team needs you, not just your serves, not just your tosses. All of you."

But Hajime wasn't careful enough, and that bitterness flowed right into his next words. "You want 'perfect trust,' right, Oikawa, huh? Not gonna happen if you end up in the _goddamn hospital!_ "

Silence.

Tooru stood, fist clenched, head lowered.

Hajime couldn't see any part of Tooru's face. He needed _something_ to work with, for to Tooru speak or yell or even just look at him. _Anything_.

"Get the fuck out of my sight." Tooru's voice was flat, devoid of all emotion. He didn't look up.

"Oikawa..." Hajime felt dread replace his anger. Hearing Tooru say _fuck_ was like being zapped by electricity, same as the time he overheard Tooru say it to Takahiro in the locker room. Something was _very, very wrong_. What was he missing, he needed to understand, to help—

" _GO AWAY!_ " Tooru screamed, voice cracking on the last syllable.

Hajime started towards the door but paused after a few steps, pulling two bottles of ice cold sports drinks out of his bag and setting them on the floor. He left the gym without looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: The Interhigh tournament and its aftermath.


	7. Devastate me deliberately

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Everyone knew that Oikawa, Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Iwaizumi were now incredibly close. But it was like someone flipped a switch one day. Practices were too quiet, faces too grim. Yahaba suspected they'd flat out avoid each other if it wasn't for oh, you know, this incredibly important tournament that's the gateway to nationals. That they were competing in. Right now. With four out of seven starters not getting along._
> 
>  
> 
> _"Oh man, I'm so glad you noticed too. It just feels... wrong. Matsukawa hasn't said a word off the court, and talking to Iwaizumi right now is like poking a bear with a stick," Motomu told Yahaba. "Akao-san is the easiest person to talk to on the court right now. That's pretty messed up."_

Something was off.

"It's fine, isn't it?" Watari assured Yahaba. "We just won. And our next opponent doesn't have a very strong team."

"But Oikawa-san hasn't poked Iwaizumi-san at all today, and Hanamaki-san's joke just now wasn't even the good kind of horrible." Yahaba countered.

"I guess I don't get why stuff like that matters," Watari shrugged.

Everyone knew that Oikawa, Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Iwaizumi were now incredibly close. But it was like someone flipped a switch one day. Practices were too quiet, faces too grim. Yahaba suspected they'd flat out avoid each other if it wasn't for oh, you know, this incredibly important tournament that's the gateway to nationals. That they were competing in. Right now. With _four out of seven_ starters not getting along.

Other members on the team shared Yahaba's concern. "Oh man, I'm so glad you noticed too. It just feels... wrong," said Motomu. "Matsukawa hasn't said a word off the court, and talking to Iwaizumi right now is like poking a bear with a stick." The third year shuddered. "Akao-san is the easiest person to talk to on the court right now. _That's_ pretty messed up," he told Yahaba.

Actually, Akao probably saved the day.

The starters were warming up for their second match, hitting Oikawa's tosses halfheartedly in absolute silence. But when it was Akao's turn, he caught and held on to the ball with both hands.

"Hey, listen up!" Akao held the ball up high. With everyone's eyes on the captain, he rounded on the four problem children of the day. "What the hell is wrong with you dumbasses?"

Yahaba watched approvingly. You can worry about approaching the problem with tact and the right timing and maintaining team harmony... Or you can be Akao and plow right through all of that. _Bless our idiot captain._

When it looked like nobody was going to respond, Akao continued. "Not that I'm complaining, Oikawa, but why are you tossing to me so damn much? Iwa's only _kind_ of shitty now—"

" _Oi_ —"

Akao ignored the interjection from Iwaizumi. "—so I don't get why you're making things easier for the other team. Less of them marking Iwa equals more on me. You think I like being blocked or something?"

The vice-captain replied, "I've been making the best strategic decisions—"

"Oh, cut the _crap_ , Oikawa. We won that match because they sucked, not because we're good."

 _Oh shit,_ Yahaba thought. Now even Watari looked concerned. Akao _never_ challenged Oikawa when it came to decisions on the court. Motomu was very, very slowly backing himself away from the scene.

"The two of you," Akao waved his index finger at Iwaizumi and Hanamaki, "are playing like you have sticks up your asses, and _you_ ," he pointed at Matsukawa, "look like you just came from a funeral."

There were no jokes. No snappy comebacks. Just four boys staring at each other, looking a little pale and very, very startled.

"Well, just... you... _ARGH I don't know_ go... hug it out or whatever. I'm getting a snack. Be normal when I get back." Akao ordered. He tossed the ball to Oikawa and walked off the court. The setter caught it, staring like he'd never seen a volleyball before. 

Motomu and Watari scrambled to follow the captain and escape the heavy atmosphere. Yahaba stayed put, pretending to be busy flipping through some notes.

"You guys," Hanamaki started.

"The _captain_ is more mature and emotionally intelligent than we are," Matsukawa observed, looking rather offended. Yahaba suppressed a snort. Oikawa pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Look, we don't have time to work everything out right now, but we do have time to play well and win this next one," said Hanamaki.  
  
Oikawa and Iwaizumi shared a long, steady look.

"Okay," the two of them said.

"Win first, angst later," Matsukawa added. They laughed uncomfortably.  _It's a start,_ thought Yahaba.

Just when the warmup period was about to end, Oikawa placed a hand on Iwaizumi's shoulder. The wing spiker flinched. 

"Um. Hey. Truce?" Oikawa asked.

"... Yeah. Of course," Iwaizumi replied. "And... I'll only say this once, so... don'tcallmeIwaizumi," he mumbled. "It's all  _weird_ now."

Oikawa looked like he was about to tackle Iwaizumi right there and then. The vice captain was practically vibrating with joy and excitement, and from the blush on Iwaizumi's cheeks it seemed like he'd noticed it, too.

 _Much better_ , Yahaba thought. _Now we've got this match in the bag._

"Good job out there, Iwaizumi-san, Oikawa-san!" Yahaba said happily as he handed his senpais their water bottles. They gave him appreciative smiles and went back on the court.

"Did you mean 'good job with those warm-up hits' or 'good job for acting your age'?" Coach Irihata asked, amused.

"Who knows, Coach?" Yahaba said with a shrug and left to join his teammates.

 

* * *

 

Seijoh started day two of the tournament with two wins under their belt and players who actually talked to each other. It was such a relief for Hajime that he thought the first match was a breeze. With every high five from Tooru or thumbs up from Takahiro or fist bump with Issei, Hajime's shoulder felt a little looser and his legs felt a little stronger. Their school banner looked more vibrant, and the fans behind it seemed to radiate more positive energy than ever.

Akao nodded with approval after Hajime broke through a three-man wall like it was nothing. He smacked Hajime on the back. "Glad you straightened your shit out. But don't take too much glory for yourself, Fuyu-chan's watching me today," Akao smirked. Hajime couldn't help grinning back at the captain.

But somehow, the good atmosphere took a downturn during lunch even though Seijoh's win this morning landed them in the quarterfinals. Hajime overheard Yahaba and Watari talk about their next opponent and asked to join them.

"So what's the deal with this Shiratorizawa team?"

"Ushijima Wakatoshi," Watari said. "I'm sure you've heard of him too. 'The most powerful spike Tohoku has ever seen' and all that."

Even Hajime knew the name. Practically everybody did.

"Put it this way. You can say our team strategy is flexible. Adaptive. One that takes advantage of every combination of players on the court, thanks to Oikawa-san," Yahaba explained. "As for Shiratorizawa, their strategy is simple: _send the ball to Ushijima and win_."

"This goes against everything Oikawa-san loves about volleyball. He decided to take Ushijima down after playing Shiratorizawa's junior high team for the first time. Kitaichi—that's Senpai's junior high school—came really close to beating Shiratorizawa during his first two years. But no one else at Kitaichi matched his determination, so he pretty much gave it up during his third year."

Hajime thought back to extinguished flames and dying embers.

Watari jumped in. "This is how bad it was: did you know I used to be a setter, senpai? I'm pretty new to volleyball, so when I was choosing a high school I didn't know any of this stuff. Then when I first saw Oikawa-senpai play last year, I actually thought I could beat him!" The libero laughed.

"Because Oikawa-san wasn't himself until last year's Interhigh ended. He was still good until then, but not like he was at Kitaichi. _Definitely_ not like he is now," said Yahaba. "How do I put this... I believe Oikawa-san feels this team, as it is now, is his second chance. To make up for the time he spent thinking he'd never win against Shiratorizawa. I think defeating Shiratorizawa today would mean the world to him."

This statement made Hajime realize that Yahaba had seamlessly redirected the conversation to why the match was important to Tooru. _And it was probably for my benefit._ Which would mean Yahaba had already caught on to his feelings. Tooru had been just as observant. A small chill ran down Hajime's back when he remembered how exposed he'd felt when Tooru asked him about Yamagata East. 

 _Aoba Johsai setters are scary,_ thought Hajime.

"Wow. Okay. You... sure know a lot, Yahaba. And Watari. Thanks."

The setter smiled. "All part of the deal when you're Oikawa-san's kouhai."

 

* * *

 

Shiratorizawa, with its second-year ace Ushijima Wakatoshi, definitely lived up to all the hype. _This guy spikes like a college student_ , Hajime thought. Seijoh was making great offensive plays like they did in the previous match, but if the team couldn't contain Ushijima's power then they didn't have a chance.

_... defeating Shiratorizawa today would mean the world to him._

Hajime felt a wave a determination rise within himself. _No. We can still pull it off._

Just then, Hajime saw Yahaba waiting to be subbed in. He looked frantically over at Tooru. _Is something wrong? Is he tired? It's only the first set._

But Yahaba was holding Motomu's number.

_Pinch serve._

With needlepoint precision, Yahaba's serve hit its target: Ushijima. The ace was no longer in a position to approach the net, and Shiratorizawa was in disarray. It was only for a moment, but it was enough: Shiratorizawa's setter couldn't find a good toss opportunity and attempted a feint instead, but Issei was there for the block. Seijoh's point, 20 to 23. They had broken Shiratorizawa's scoring streak.

Two more serve-driven plays brought Seijoh to 22 points; they were only one point behind. "One more!" Watari yelled from the sideline. This was Seijoh's strongest offensive formation against Shiratorizawa's weakest defense; it was now or never for the chance to take back the set.

"Out!" Akao called, watching a fast float serve trail overhead.

"No! It's dropping!" yelled Takahiro. Motomu made it _just_ in time for an overhand receive. His aim was off, though, and Takahiro almost tripped as he ran out of bounds to save the ball.

His pass was about to send the ball back over the net. They couldn't give Shiratorizawa a chance ball—not now.

"SMACK IT DOWN!" Akao roared as he watched Hajime and Tooru chase the ball to the net.

Hajime heard a soft _oof_  as he bumped into Tooru in midair. But Hajime had already taken a full swing at the ball, sending it right into a Shiratorizawa middle blocker in the back row. The receiver wasn't prepared, and the ball bounced off his forearm then out of bounds.

To everyone watching the match, the sound of that ball bouncing to a stop was as loud as thunder; each successive _thump_  cutting through the sudden, absolute silence on the court and in the stands.

Every single member of the Aoba Johsai volleyball club who had rushed onto the court now stood like statues, only moving when the head coach and medic arrived with a stretcher and first aid kit. It took the assistant coach and four third-years to pull Hajime, Takahiro, and Issei away from their vice captain, now lying motionless on the gym floor.

 

* * *

 

"Hajime, it wasn't you," Issei said, trying to comfort his friend.

"How the hell do you know?!" Hajime yelled. He was trying to control himself and knew he was failing.

"We all saw the play, Hajime. You guys barely touched," Takahiro replied.

"The medic even said he didn't think Tooru got a concussion," reasoned Issei.

"But I felt it!" Hajime insisted. "I know we jumped into each other, and I landed, but... I have to go. I have to go see him. I can't—"

"Pull yourself together Hajime, _it wasn't your fault!_ " Issei yelled. Hearing his mild-mannered friend raise his voice shut Hajime up immediately.

Issei exchanged a look with Takahiro, sighed, then said, "It happens."

"What? Is that supposed to—what the hell are you getting at?"

"Listen," Issei hissed, "Not 'you bump into people, it happens.' Tooru... this happens to him."

"... What?"

Takahiro couldn't look at Hajime; he covered his eyes with his hand. _Sorry, Tooru_. But it was out in the open now, and Hajime would find out at some point anyway.

"He... faints," Takahiro said. "This isn't the first time."

"What?" Hajime felt like all the air was knocked out of him. "How many times? When did it start? Isn't it dangerous to play? Why... why didn't I know?" _Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't HE tell me?_

A whistle blew.

"I'm sorry," Coach Irihata said, "If you don't want to forfeit the match, you have to get back out there. Now."

All three boys nodded, though with great difficulty. "We'll play, Coach. Oikawa would hate it if we quit now," Issei said softly. The head coach nodded, and the team took their positions on the court.  
  
Hajime grabbed Yahaba's wrist as the substitute setter prepared to join the match.

"Did you know about this?" _Is anyone else as lost and scared as I am?_

"... I'm really sorry, senpai," said Yahaba, his hand shaking even after Hajime released him.

 

* * *

 

Shiratorizawa easily took the first set and the lead in the second.

 _Why didn't he tell me, why am I the only person who didn't know, why_ — Hajime couldn't stay focused, with thoughts like these bombarding him constantly.

"Iwaizumi-san?" A small voice said.

" _What?_ " Hajime snapped. "The fuck do you want?"

Yahaba's eyes were wide as he faced the full force of Hajime's anger. The first-year's fingertips went white as he gripped the volleyball harder, tension evident through his entire body. His lower lip quivered.

"We're—we won't be doing quicks for a while, un-until we get into a rhythm. I mean, until _I_ get..." Yahaba turned away swiftly but looked back at Hajime. "Iwaizumi-san, I'm sorry I can't play like—"

 _He's like Tooru_ , Hajime thought. Eyes glistening, cheeks flushed, trembling with the fear that he wouldn't measure up. Like the day Tooru cried on the rooftop, a sight Hajime never wanted to see again. But here was Tooru's kouhai, the two setters so alike in so many ways, about to break down like that.

_Because of me._

"God, Yahaba. I'm— That's not—" Hajime struggled to find the right words. "I'm sorry for being like this. It's just, Oikawa, he... I never thought I'd see him like that and part of me couldn't—no, _can't_ take it. He never said anything..."

Yahaba sniffed and gave Hajime a watery smile. "Oikawa-san can be really frustrating, huh."

Hajime smiled in return. "Let's try and have good news for Oikawa when he comes back, yeah?"

"Not _too_ good, or else he'd whine about how we left him out," replied Yahaba.

Hajime laughed softly, patting Yahaba on the back before facing their opponents once more.

 

* * *

 

"Eheheh, I guess I overdid it a bit..." Tooru said to his friends.

"Tooru..." Takahiro gave him a stern look.

"Well, guess I let Ushiwaka off easy this time!" Tooru said cheerfully, winking. Takahiro and Issei laughed.

 _Fake. This is fake. You hate that you missed the match, that we lost._ Hajime thought.

"Iwa-chan?" Tooru called. "Awfully quiet over there. And you didn't bring me a present! I think I deserve one for having to drag you everywhere—"

"This _isn't_ funny, Oikawa!" Hajime growled. The other three looked stunned.

"Iwa-chan..."

It was just so wrong, seeing Tooru in a gray-blue hospital gown with a scratchy, gray-blue blanket draped over his legs in this room with beige tile and walls. He should be in brilliant turquoise and dazzling white on a court as bright as a sunny day... _Not this. All because he thought he needed to push himself for one more hour or ten more serves or whatever the hell else he was doing._

_Don't get mad he's in the hospital don't get mad don't get mad_

"Get some rest. I'll see you at school." Hajime left the room before his feelings could go out of control.

 

* * *

 

"Yes, _of course_ I know practice is optional, but anyone watching yesterday could see that I screwed up. A lot," Yahaba fumed.

"You were great, Yahaba," Hajime said encouragingly. "You came in at a tough time and played well under pressure. I know you and Oikawa are pretty close too, so it was probably hard to concentrate... I know I was having trouble. And don't forget that you pretty much singlehandedly won three straight points from them in the first set. Shiratorizawa's just a strong team, but we'll find their weakness."

"Thanks, Iwaizumi-san. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to practice," Yahaba said, matter-of-factly. Hajime rolled his eyes.  _He really is Tooru's kouhai._

"And speaking of optional, why are _you_ here? I thought you went to the hospital with Matsukawa-san and Hanamaki-san. Or did you miss them? They stopped by and left twenty minutes ago. I'm sure they'll still be there if you head out now."

"I _was_ there," Hajime said, with even more difficulty than he'd expected.

"Ah." Yahaba didn't push for details, and Hajime was grateful. "Right. Since you're here, wanna help me again?"

"Help you with what?" _Since when have I helped anybody? It's always been everyone else helping me. This_ was a painful thought that was starting to appear over and over in Hajime's mind.

Yahaba looked confused. "Setting practice? Like we've been doing?"

"What, you mean the 'remedial spiking practice' for me? Which he's been having you do because—" Hajime cut himself off.  _Because he's been avoiding me._

" _Nooo_ , if we have to give it a name it would be 'remedial tossing'." Yahaba laughed a little, at himself. "Oikawa-san wanted me to practice some of the harder plays, and he said you volunteered to help. I mean, I do have an easier time syncing with you."

"... I don't understand," said Hajime. "No offense, but I don't think you'll be the starting setter until your third year."

Yahaba shook his head. "Don't worry, everyone knows that. But I'm not just the setter who'll take over once Senpai graduates. I'm backup for whenever something like this happens to him... he said he told you." Yahaba said the last few words with suspicion, narrowing his eyes as he examined Hajime's expression.

Hajime felt something crack inside himself. "Wait, so he planned for it? He fucking _knew_ he'd be going to the hospital?"  _He did tell me, but I thought he meant if he strained a muscle! Damn it._

"... Yes?" Evidently that wasn't the reaction Yahaba was expecting. 

"Why the hell does he keep working himself to death?!" Hajime said, more to himself, but Yahaba answered anyway.

"Oikawa-san's not himself if he's not actively trying to improve. You know that."

"I do, but did he have to make himself pass out?"

" _Make_ himself?" Understanding dawned on Yahaba, and he sighed. "No, I think it's safe to say that Oikawa-san is very aware of his own limits."

"No, he _isn't_ ," Hajime argued, "and that's why he's in the hospital! Damn it, maybe it was a mistake for me to play. He said I was supporting him, but I'm just encouraging his... this... _behavior_."

Yahaba shook his head. "Iwaizumi-san... it's not about you," he said with a frown.

 _Well, that sounds familiar,_ Hajime thought. _But I'm not wrong..._ "But Oikawa even said himself that he overdid it, and part of that was having to drag me around."

Yahaba looked thoughtful, then asked, "Has Oikawa-san ever tried to hide other things from you?"

Tooru hiding something had never crossed Hajime's mind, but now that Yahaba had mentioned he could come up with more than just one time when there was something more to what Tooru said or did. _The date. The fact that his parents run Three Rivers. Why his parents seem to know exactly who I am. That he knew about Yamagata East._

Yahaba seemed to know Hajime's answer. "Right," Yahaba said, "So have you considered the possibility that Oikawa-san is hiding something from you this time, too _?_ "

Hajime couldn't respond.

Yahaba looked at him levelly, not saying a word.

The date. _"I appoint you, Player Number 4, as his official substitute," Tooru had said._

The bakery. _"I don't... I don't really like it there."_

Today. _"Eheheh, I guess I overdid it a bit..."_

_If that's just a cover story, which means he didn't overdo it, but he's still in the hospital..._

And then, Takahiro's voice. " _He faints. This isn't the first time."_

_Oh._

_Shit shit shit shit shit_

_"Oh my God_  Yahaba. _Yahaba,"_ Hajime said in a panic. He really didn't want to be right, but he had to know. "It's some kind of ongoing condition? Illness?"

"Not my story to tell, Iwaizumi-san," said Yahaba, but Hajime knew that meant 'yes.' The setter continued. "But I think you have a better understanding of the situation now."

Hajime yanked at his own hair in frustration. "Yeah, my understanding is that I'm world's _worst piece of trash_. Crap, sorry, I gotta go back!" He was already running to the locker room for his bag before he finished his last sentence.

"Wait!" Yahaba called after him. "Before you go, I have something that might help you with Oikawa-san."

"Something that helps?"  _I'll take all the help I can get right now..._

"Let's call it a reward for realizing you were being a complete jackass, hm?" said Yahaba, and Hajime spluttered. "I had a good feeling you'd get there today. Be right back." 

 _Yep,_ thought Hajime _. He's gonna be an amazing and completely terrifying captain in a couple of years._

 

* * *

 

"Oikawa-san, I'm reinserting the IV now," said the nurse.

Tooru sighed as he nodded. He didn't like admitting it, but the drip really did make him feel better. Still, taking the thing out and feeling a little crappy for a while was definitely worth not making his friends worry too much.

"Oh, and someone dropped this off for you." She handed him a box then left the room.

As soon as Tooru opened the box, he knew exactly what it was without looking. That sweet, familiar smell... He lifted the milk bread carefully out of the box, peeling back some of the paper wrapping before taking a bite.

_So good! Not Dad's recipe, though. So who..._

Tooru checked inside the box carefully, looking for a clue about the sender. No one outside of family had ever made anything like this for Tooru before, though admittedly his friends probably thought that baked goods weren't the best gift idea for someone who  _lives_ in a bakery. What they didn't know was that Tooru really had a soft spot for everything homemade.

 _Ah!_ There was a hastily scribbled note stuck to one of the sides in the box. It read:

_Oikawa—_

_I'm sorry. For a lot of things. I don't know any details, but I do know that you've been dealing with something incredibly difficult and all I've done so far is make you upset._

_My mom used to say this to me all the time, but now it makes me think of you. I think "star" suits you better._

_"Setbacks are inevitable to superstars. Adversity is what separates the good from the great. After all, stars can only shine during the night."_

_—Iwaizumi_

_PS. Yahaba made the bread. He said I can take credit for it, but if I do then you'll probably try and make me bake another one._  
_PPS. You probably don't want to see me, but if you'll let me come back just once, I really want to apologize in person._

There was a phone number scribbled at the bottom.

Tooru clutched the note to his chest and smiled.

_I wish I could tell you how much you've already done for me._

He grabbed his phone and typed a message. 

 

* * *

 

When Hajime felt his phone buzz, he immediately tried to sneak a peek.

"Hajime, please finish eating before using your phone," said his dad.

"Sorry I just need to read what this one text _—_ " Hajime gave his parents a quick, apologetic smile but was already unlocking his phone under the table.

 **Unknown number:** If you only come back *just once* I'll make makki beat you up

 **Unknown number:**  Right after school tomorrow? If practice is still in the morning 

Hajime let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He flopped his head and arms back against his chair in relief... and then tipped backwards and fell on the floor. 

"Told you not to use your phone at the table," his dad said mildly. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Former delinquent Akao will never admit that he's always been intrigued by the idea of resolving conflicts with hugs. _"Do you punch them in the face before or after you hug?"_
> 
> Usually I change references and quotes around a bit, but the "setbacks are inevitable to superstars..." bit is lifted word for word from Your Lie in April (the scanlation I've read, anyway). 
> 
> Just finished planning out the rest of the fic and it looks like there will be 15 chapters! Character tags updated.


	8. Invincible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"A lot of people," Tooru continued, "think of a setter as an orchestra conductor. The person who assembles the musicians' sounds and voices according to the structure of the score. Next to the conductor is the concertmaster of the orchestra, the ace of the team. They work together to guide the players, the conductor who pays attention to the combinations and harmonies, and the concertmaster who is the very definition of reliability, the model you look to for guidance as they lead by example in the midst of the players."_
> 
> _"The performance is only interesting if they clash, these two leaders. Personality, history, goals, desire, pride. They make us argue and fight, criticize and disagree. But what we end up with is something beautifully unique and powerful. Greater than the sum of its parts."_

Being a reserve player again wasn't that bad, Yahaba thought, because it meant that Oikawa-san was back from the hospital. The setter was playing brilliantly, armed with more energy and power and enthusiasm than ever. Though Oikawa hadn't played in any official games since his return, his performance in practice matches had recaptured the attention of a lot of volleyball fans. It wasn't long before the names "Aoba Johsai" and "Oikawa Tooru" were again synonymous with "powerhouse team" and "championship contender."

_Incredible. Practically invincible—can anything in the world really keep him away from volleyball? He really is the best role model—_

"Iwa-channnnn..." A high-pitched whine interrupted Yahaba's train of thought.

Iwaizumi was slowly trudging across the gym, bent awkwardly with the strain of a certain vice captain draped over his back. For a moment, Yahaba thought this was some other bizarre punishment for their newest wing spiker.

"Get. Off!" Iwaizumi barked.

"Then just stand up straight and _drop_ meeee!" was Oikawa's response. 

Iwaizumi made some sort of throaty, aggravated growl before reaching back and hooking an arm around each of Oikawa's legs. He stood quickly, making Oikawa throw his arms around Iwaizumi's neck out of pure self-preservation.

"Whooo _OOOAAA Iwa-chan_ this is the opposite of dropping me! Hey!" Oikawa cried, bopping his fist on Iwaizumi's head and kicking his legs wildly. The whole gym was staring, and Yahaba knew they all shared one thought, then: _this is a full-on temper tantrum_.

Iwaizumi deposited Oikawa onto a bench, though he had to wiggle and shake a bit before the setter would let go. Oikawa stuck his tongue out at Iwaizumi, but the latter was already walking away without a word. 

 _What. The hell. Was that?_ Yahaba thought.

Next was 3-on-3s. Yahaba was teamed up with Oikawa and Iwaizumi, to play against Matsukawa, Hanamaki, and Motomu.

Now, _this_ was the practice Yahaba was looking for. Oikawa's tosses to Iwaizumi were faster than ever, so on-point that even Matsukawa was having trouble blocking their quicks. Oikawa even stopped the game a few times to give Yahaba tips about his tosses, and everyone on the court listened with interest. It was great. Until...

 _Oh. Looks like Oikawa-san went back to being a giant man-baby again_ , thought Yahaba, now irritated.

On one of Iwaizumi's serves, Oikawa seemed to be doing his best to be as annoying as possible—making faces, flailing his arms, jumping up and down, blowing raspberries.

" _Oikawa-san_ ," Yahaba hissed, "you know we're on the same team, _right?_ "

Usually, in difficult situations, Yahaba would ask an upperclassman for help. Unfortunately, the one he knew best was the source of the problem, and he was busy doing a chicken impression anyway. Someone else, then.

"Matsukawa-san! What the hell?" Yahaba demanded.

"I don't know! If Iwaizumi did something to Oikawa, Oikawa usually just pokes or punches him. I don't know what all of... _this_ ," Matsukawa waved his hand around vaguely, "is. But I apologize deeply for my idiot children."

Yahaba rubbed his temples. "Where's the captain? He'd put a stop to this."

"Akao-san had to go to advising. Third year stuff," Matsukawa replied.

And then Iwaizumi snapped. He stomped over to one of the net poles, let out a yell, and started to kick the foam padding without mercy. On the third kick, Yahaba saw the antenna list to one side. The net was probably just four or five kicks away from sustaining real damage. And then the coaches would tell Yahaba to call the maintenance staff or order equipment to replace whatever was damaged, because he was an underclassman and because he was 'so good at this kind of thing.'

And of course, Yahaba had to be the same age as Kyoutani Kentarou, one of the most destructive people anyone on the team had ever seen. So Yahaba spent most of last year cleaning up after him. Now that Kyoutani wasn't on the team any more, Yahaba was _done._

 _"That's IT,"_ Yahaba seethed, and Matsukawa backed away _very_ carefully _._

"Iwaizumi-san," said Yahaba, who had school his voice to an even and calm tone. 

"Huh? What's up?" Iwaizumi asked, like kicking the crap out of a volleyball net wasn't anything worth mentioning. 

"Oikawa-san, could you come here please?" Yahaba called.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi only had a second or two to look confused before both of them were yelping in pain.

"OWWWW ow ow ow stop I can walk! I'll walk!"  
"OWW damn it ow ow ow ow Yahabaaahhh—"

The two second years tried in vain to stop Yahaba from dragging them across the gym by their ears.

The entire team had gathered round to watched, jaws dropping when they saw Yahaba scolding Oikawa and Iwaizumi in the corner, the younger boy standing tall with his fists on his hips. The two second-years, in turn, were nodding sheepishly. Yahaba flicked Iwaizumi and Oikawa on each of their foreheads, then walked back to the court where Matsukawa, Hanamaki, and Motomu were watching in awe. They kept staring at Yahaba even after he returned to their court, not daring to make the first move.

"Hanamaki-san?" Yahaba called with a smile. "Would you straighten the antenna, please?"

"Yes! Sir! I mean, okayyesrightaway Yahaba!"

"Now," Yahaba said pleasantly when Oikawa and Iwaizumi had returned to the court, faces as pink as their ears. "Where were we?"

 

* * *

 

Tooru had insisted on a "field trip" to Kitagawa Daiichi after school to check out some of the first years that might join the Aoba Johsai team next year. But Issei and Takahiro weren't about to let Tooru and Hajime off that easily, with that whole spectacle at morning practice.

"So if Hajime's usually team mom, but Yahaba can out-mom him, is Yahaba now the _team grandma?!_ " Takahiro said before dissolving into laughter. "But seriously, you guys," he continued after calming down, "I am not ashamed to admit that I almost pissed my pants when Yahaba asked me to fix the antenna."

"What the hell were you doing anyway?" Issei asked.

"I'm just trying to get Iwa-chan to hit me!" Tooru was already whining again.

"Okay, what?!" Issei and Takahiro both demanded, but Tooru ignored them.

"Or throw something at me, or... anything!" Tooru was practically whimpering now.

"This can't be an attention thing, Hajime watches you like, all the time," Takahiro observed.

Hajime spluttered, but Tooru exclaimed, "That's it! _That!_ You keep hovering and worrying and, and... you're not my mom, Iwa-chan!"

 _Oh, that's what this is._ Takahiro thought. _Oh, Hajime. Can't say I blame you._ "Issei, wanna take a walk?" he suggested, hoping Issei would get what was going on.  

Issei raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that okay? Won't they run away?"

"You really think either of these nerds would leave a volleyball match before it ended?" Takahiro said, matter-of-factly.

The other boy laughed. "True. Tooru'll probably even stay later so that he can brag to his old team."

"You know, we're sitting _right here_ —" Tooru complained, but nobody could really take him seriously at this point. 

"Good thinking, Hiro. You, and you." Issei glared at his two friends. "Work it out before we get back."

 

* * *

 

"Well. Our kids seem energetic," joked Takahiro. They were sitting in under a tree at a grassy spot that was just outside Kitagawa Daiichi's front gate. 

"At least that means that Tooru's okay now, right?" There was more than a tinge of doubt in Issei's voice.

"... God, I hope so." 

"Do you think this was Tooru's way of making sure Hajime lightens up?" Issei wondered. "He's brought Hajime back to us a few times now... I'm almost positive Hajime would still be hung up on Yamagata East without Tooru."

"Sort of? But you heard what he said about Hajime hovering and worrying too much. I think Hajime's trying to protect Tooru, but Tooru doesn't want to be coddled."

"It's weird at first, seeing Hajime like that," Issei said. He picked up a leaf and idly ripped it apart when he spoke. "I feel like I've been the one trying to protect Hajime for a long time, but seeing him now... he's really a protector at heart. Like back when we were kids."

"Yeah," said Takahiro, but his expression darkened. "Until those assholes in Yamagata messed him up."

"I think he's a lot happier looking after Tooru like this..." Issei's face fell a bit, but he immediately recovered with, "... Which means that I'm just too mature and self-sufficient to be with Hajime." He tried to look aloof but just ended up laughing at himself instead.

"To think that all Hajime needed was a whiny dork in his life," Takahiro said thoughtfully.

"Oh, give me a break, Hiro, you're head over heels for that whiny dork, too!" Issei was still laughing, but it was much more subdued now.

"Ah. Um. Haven't been for a while, actually. I think I sort of got used to having a crush on Tooru, since it basically started as soon as we met—"

"Before you met," Issei muttered with a snort.

"—BUT, I think it's obvious that Tooru has been into Hajime for a long time."

"I thought you just went on a date with Tooru this weekend," said Issei with a frown.

"I mean, yeah, Tooru and I hang out with just each other a lot. They probably were a little bit romantic at first, at least for me, but now we just call them dates to mess with Hajime," Takahiro grinned.

"So hanging out together qualifies as a date now?" Issei gave Takahiro a smirk in return. "You and I have been hanging out a lot lately, all of those were dates too, huh?"

"..."

Issei was not expecting silence, of all things. "Um, Hiro?"

Takahiro dug his fingers into the grass to try and ground himself. "Do you think they were? Or maybe the better question is, 'Do you want them to be?'"

There was a long pause.

"What?" Issei said softly.

Takahiro was blushing, now. "Sorry. Forget it. But, um, will you answer that question when you're ready?"

"Okay. Ah. I will. Answer, I mean. Just." Issei stammered. He was getting more and more red by the second.

"Right, okay, so yeah this," Takahiro blurted, trying to get their conversation back to where it started. "This is more or less how I see it now: Tooru's practically the poster child for Miyagi U19 volleyball, the model high school athlete, right? You've seen the articles."

"Oh yeah, I didn't even know some of those places had kids' volleyball programs."

"Pretty sure he actually started one or two of them," Takahiro said, admiration evident in his voice.

"But," Issei recalled, "all of those magazines only talked about his volleyball playing as a junior high student. Which isn't all that surprising, considering the way Tooru played when we met him... yikes."

"That's exactly it," said Takahiro. "Tooru's not exactly subtle. At first I thought he wasn't playing too well because the beginning of high school is stressful for anybody, plus he was spending all that time volunteering and teaching. But he magically got _way_ better when we started planning Hajime's transfer. And now that those two are all... like grade schoolers who keep teasing their crushes—"

"Ugghh," Issei groaned, but with a small, fond smile.

"—Tooru is fucking unstoppable. For him, it'd been Hajime all along."

"They're happy, Hajime and Tooru. Tooru's so close to having everything he's ever wanted, now. I hate that we can't give him the rest." Issei sighed and leaned back, letting his head _thunk_ against the tree at their backs.

"Oh, we're taking Ushijima down _for sure_ , no problem."

"You know what I meant, Hiro," Issei grumbled.

Takahiro nodded. "Yeah, I just don't wanna say it."

"He was worse this time than he let on, right? Really not subtle." Issei forced out a laugh. "And he _seems_ totally fine now, but I think the fact that it came back like this is supposed to be a really bad sign."

"Yeah, Tooru's said as much. But if doctors can't even do anything about it, what the hell are _we_ supposed to do?" Takahiro couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice. He closed his eyes and leaned to the side, to rest his head on Issei's shoulder. 

"I think we just give Tooru all that we can give him."

 

* * *

 

"Oh, they must've grown so much! My children," beamed Tooru.

"You've got some big children there," Hajime whistled. "Seriously, how tall is that spiky haired kid?"

"That's Kindaichi. A couple inches taller than me, maybe? He comes with a bonus three inches of hair, a useful feature that makes him look more intimidating on the court. His height conveniently obscures the fact that he's a giant marshmallow."

"You sound like a shady car salesman, Oikawa."

"Hey!"

"It'd be nice to have him at Seijoh, though. I don't think Motomu has the height we need."

"Mmm, agreed," Tooru nodded. "Next up is Kunimi, number 6."

"With the parted hair? He looks like he's gonna fall asleep."

"Kunimi's efficient, which will be a nice change from Akao-san. He's effective in other ways, too, but judging from how they look out there... huh. I don't think we'll get to see that today." Oikawa frowned down at the court, looking puzzled.

Kunimi was almost too late to reach his setter's toss but managed to barely tip the ball over the net. Fortunately for Kitagawa Daiichi, it played out like a feint; their opponents were too far back to pick it up.

"Hm. Good reflexes."

"Yeah, but that's not what I meant about Kunimi's other talents."

"The setter's not exactly making it easy for him," said Hajime. "That's the kind of toss you give yourself when you're throwing the ball against a wall, not when you actually expect someone else to hit it." _But_ , Hajime noticed, _the height is always exactly right for each spiker, and the tossing motion gives nothing away to the opponent..._

The player named Kindaichi swiped his arm at nothing when the toss blew right past him. His face was flushed with anger and frustration, despite Kunimi's apparent efforts to console him. Hajime had the sudden urge to go and pat him on the back.

"Ahh, Tobio-chan. I... had no idea it was like this."

"Hm?"

"Kageyama Tobio. The setter."

There was something about this 'Tobio-chan' that made Hajime worry. It looked like he was getting angry at his teammates, rather than himself, so his tosses are probably going as he planned. _But it's like he's playing a totally different volleyball game that just happens to be on the same court as everyone else._

_Alone._

_To stand on the court and feel completely isolated..._

"His tosses are crazy, yeah. but shouldn't his teammates be trying to match him, too?" Hajime said, a little defensively. He really felt bad for Kageyama; is this what it would've been like if he stayed at Yamagata East? Kindaichi, at least, was still making an effort. But the rest of the Kitagawa Daiichi team seemed to have given up on their setter.

"Yes, they should be trying, and I think Tobio-chan will have better luck with that in high school with teammates at a higher skill level overall. For the record Tobio's not really a part of this little scouting trip, but..." Tooru trailed off.

Hajime was relieved. Even though Kageyama was clearly more skilled than Yahaba, Yahaba was the best choice for taking over Tooru's position after graduation. _Any Seijoh player who doesn't respect Yahaba probably needs to rethink their life decisions._

"Iwa-chan. I think I need to tell you something. Can we go outside?" Tooru asked, still looking at the match in progress.

"... Sure."

 

* * *

 

"I was a third year when Tobio-chan started here," Tooru began. "He was... incredible. And a threat. Yahaba said he told you about how I wanted to defeat Ushiwaka?"

"Yeah."

"With the right teammates, Tobio could wipe the floor with Shiratorizawa. As a first year. I... couldn't stand it. I'd already failed for two years."

Hajime tried to interject, but Tooru waved him off to continue his story. "So when he came to me for advice one day, I hit him. Hard."

 _You... what?_ Hajime had plenty of experience dealing with Tooru poking and punching him, but none of it was out of spite. And to hit an underclassman...

"I thought he'd ruin my plans. I was _horrible_ , Iwa-chan," Tooru said, almost on the verge of tears. "I wanted to see him vulnerable—no, _I wanted him to break_. But he just bowed and left. Acted totally normal the next day and every day after that. So much more mature than me, right?"

"In the beginning, when I first started volleyball, I wanted to show everybody that a team of six was better than a team of one plus five. That having fun was more important than following a single, boring strategy. But somewhere along the way, that warped and twisted into trying, no, _needing_ to take Ushiwaka down at any cost."

"Tobio was never a threat to my real goals. He was proof that my priorities had veered way off course. I still get like that, sometimes, like when I was at the gym that night. You tried to stop me because you knew I'd hurt the team with my vendetta against Shiratorizawa."

 _... I tried to stop you because I didn't want you to get hurt,_ Hajime thought, but he couldn't say it.

"If you'd been there, Iwa-chan, to pull me back or throw a ball in my face or headbutt me or _something_ , I wouldn't have been able to hit Tobio. A kouhai. A twelve year old boy."

 _I wish I'd been there, too. If Tooru's still this upset now, how much worse did he feel back then?_ Hajime felt his heart sink at the thought of not being there for Tooru. It was irrational, but Hajime was starting to accept that being around Tooru made him want to throw all reason out the window.

Hajime was two or three steps ahead when he realized Tooru had stopped. He had covered his eyes with his hand and was muttering; Hajime wasn't sure if Tooru was still talking to him, or if he was just putting words to his darker thoughts and feelings. "And look at Tobio now, playing alone like that... he's just like me when I was here. Did _I_ teach him that? To win at the cost of his teammates?"  
  
Tooru took his hand away, finally making eye contact with Hajime for the first time since this conversation began. "So I guess what I'm trying to say is... this is the kind of ugly person I can be, Iwa-chan. Tobio is proof that I'm capable of hurting someone else, and I don't want to do that any more. Not to our team. But I need your help. You're the only person who's stopped me from going overboard and drowning, from taking someone else down with me."

Hajime shook his head. "But I don't— that night, at the gym, I said—Oikawa, I'll end up saying something stupid again and not even know it." _I'll end up hurting you._

"Iwa-chan... I appreciate the protection, but what I want is _partnership_."

"A lot of people," Tooru continued, "think of a setter as an orchestra conductor. The person who assembles the musicians' sounds and voices according to the structure of the score. Next to the conductor is the concertmaster of the orchestra, the ace of the team. They work together to guide the players, the conductor who pays attention to the combinations and harmonies, and the concertmaster who is the very definition of reliability, the model you look to for guidance as they lead by example in the midst of the players."

"The performance is only interesting if they clash, these two leaders. Personality, history, goals, desire, pride. They make us argue and fight, criticize and disagree. But the outcome is beautifully _unique and powerful_. Greater than the sum of its parts."

"If I wanted to be on a team with no conflict, where the will of a single person drives everyone else, I'd be at Shiratorizawa. Spending my high school volleyball career building the pedestal that Ushiwaka is already on."

Tooru sighed. "Iwa-chan... I know you're holding back. I can tell you've been tiptoeing around me since I came back to school." Then, with a sly grin, "It's exhausting, you know, spending _all week_ trying to get a reaction out of you."

"Wait, _that's_ why you were being such a brat at practice?"

"Well! I don't love your word choice. Let's call it, ah, 'stimulating communication between teammates.'"

"You were literally not carrying your own weight. My back is still sore."

"That was 'strength training,' obviously. Not that different from dragging floor mats around."

" _You tried to pull my shorts down yesterday_ ," Hajime growled, trying to play embarrassment off as anger.

"'Stimulating communication' and 'getting a good show'?"

" _Oh my God_ , you piece of trash, Trashykawa." Hajime couldn't keep himself from laughing.

"Hey! Stop adding random words to my name!" The whining was back.

Hajime pretended to consider this. "So Shittykawa's still no good, huh."

"No!" Tooru pouted. "At least use a nicer word."

"Fine. Crappykawa."

"Ughhh... Hey! Iwa-chan, stoooppp!" Tooru protested, with a big smile on his face and his eyes crinkled in laughter when Hajime started to ruffle his hair.

After they'd settled into a comfortable silence for a few minutes, Tooru nudged Hajime with his elbow.

"Hm?"

"If we don't make it to the top at Spring High, next year _will_ be _our_ year," said Tooru. "With Kindaichi, Kunimi, and a certain runaway puppy who should be coming home soon, we will be unbreakable. Invincible."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the Spring High tournament and the final chapter of this school year.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Notes on the concertmaster definition/roles at [cubpen.tumblr.com](https://cubpen.tumblr.com/post/158733566386/conductor-concertmaster%22).


	9. Decimate them like you did to me

In a match, time-outs can do a lot for a team. They allow players and coaches to strategize and regroup. Captains and vice-captains can say a few inspiring words to boost morale. Time-outs can even cut off the opponents' scoring momentum, opening up a chance for a break point.

But time-outs are only supposed to stop a _match,_ nottime itself _._

Because everything froze for Hajime when that whistle sounded and he saw Tooru, in front of the coaches' bench, gasping for breath like he'd just finished a marathon. The score was only 12 to 8, Seijoh in the lead, and this was just the first set of the first match of their first Spring High tournament together. 

Even worse was when Tooru forced out these words in between gulping breaths: "... Thanks, Coach-san. Can... can Yahaba sub in? ... For the rest of this set?"

Hajime knew he wasn't the only one who felt time stop and the gym crumble beneath them. From the looks on their faces, Issei, Takahiro, Yahaba... everyone who knew and loved Tooru in any way.

Oikawa Tooru, Aoba Johsai's vice captain and starting setter, who'd go to school for 7 hours then practice serves and tosses for for 8 if you let him, just asked to stop playing volleyball.

_No, no, no, Yahaba is only coming in to pinch serve, and he only looks as pale as a ghost because pinch serves are nervewracking._

_(Not when your team is leading)_  
_(Not when you know Tooru is his role model, his reason for becoming a setter)_

_What's happening to Tooru?_

Hajime wanted to go check. Go ask. See if Tooru needed water, a towel, anything. Was he too warm? Some ice? Hajime wanted to hold his trembling hand—

He watched Tooru clamp onto that hand with his other, forcing it to stop and behave.

The whistle blew, and Hajime felt an arm around his shoulders guiding him back to the court. It was Issei, who whispered, "No medics. So it can't be that bad," before stepping up to the net.

Hajime didn't know if that was a statement or a question. 

 

* * *

 

It had all started so well. They all moaned and groaned at getting matched up with Wakunan during the first round, but really the team looked forward to avenging their loss from earlier this year.

And then, Tooru left.

During the next rotation, Yahaba looked at Hajime with a mixture of anxiety and frustration. "Iwaizumi-san... Since Oikawa-san was back, I didn't practice as much as I should have—"

Hajime took a deep breath to steady himself. This was no time to start panicking, when he could be directing that energy towards helping his teammates instead. "Yahaba. You can do this. We can do this. You know this team; I saw you take notes during that practice match and I know you and Oikawa have studied them together over and over."

Yahaba nodded, but said nothing.

Hajime hesitated to say more—he didn't want say things he couldn't deliver on—but decided to go for it anyway. He could do it for his team.

"When you feel worried or lost, toss it to me. I'll take care of it. Let's trust each other, and trust Oikawa. He's just resting for now." _He has to come back._

The team had a rough start, still reeling from Tooru's departure. Every player on the court tried to sneak a glance at him, even the Wakunan players. To see Oikawa Tooru, the star setter, student, teacher, volunteer who must've had boundless energy to accomplish all that he had, slumped forward on the coaches' bench with a towel over his head.

But this wasn't going to be like Interhigh again. Yahaba pushed himself hard until he finally fell into a rhythm, his form cleaner and more efficient. When Yahaba made his best play yet, tricking some of Wakunan's blockers with a fake dump and clearing the way for Takahiro to score, Akao yelled "YEAH!" and gave the setter a high five.

Well. He tried to, but when he lifted his hand Yahaba squeaked and dropped into a crouch. _To dodge_. Watari spit out a mouthful of water in surprise and amusement as he looked on from the sideline. 

Akao simply kept his position, hand still raised, with a completely neutral expression on his face. Yahaba slowly stood, looking extremely harassed, and raised his hand to slap Akao's waiting hand—

 _SMACK!_  then "OW WHAT THE F—ahh, sorry..."

Before Yahaba's hand made it to Akao's, the captain pulled his own arm back then  _slapped_ Yahaba's hand with an arm thrust like he was serving a volleyball.

And then the Wakunan coach gave Yahaba a withering look for disturbing their time out.

After bowing to the Wakunan side in apology, the setter dropped his voice to a hiss.  _"What the heck was that?"_

The captain wasn't about to answer, since he was currently doubled over and shaking with silent laughter. Pretty much everyone who'd ever gotten in trouble with Yahaba was laughing, which was probably that big group of Seijoh first years trying to hide their snickering and a few second-years too. Hajime unconsciously touched his own ear. 

"Personally, I think you and the captain dish out tough love in very similar ways," Hajime deadpanned, before bursting into laughter himself. 

_Man, we all needed a laugh, but he looks like he's gonna murder me in my sleep._

_Totally worth it._

 

* * *

 

Although Seijoh lost their lead a few plays after that first time out, this little break was what they needed to start a point-winning streak. True to his word, Hajime summoned all of his power for the kill whenever Yahaba wanted to end a long rally or disrupt their opponents' momentum. With a few more slick plays by Yahaba and a tricky mix of spikes and feints from Takahiro, Akao cheering and hollering loudly all the while, it was Seijoh's set point.

24 to 22, first set, Hajime's serve. They were _so_ close, he couldn't mess this up, _win this and Tooru will come back..._

"Iwa." It was the captain. "Jump serve. C'mon, let's see it."

"What?!"

_Now?!_

Sure, Hajime had been practicing a lot, but accuracy was still—

"Iwaizumi, stop being a fucking _dickwad_ and just do it. We have room to screw up. Go show off for that boyfriend of yours and _for the love of God_ get that kicked puppy look off your face. You're making the kids cry," the captain said with a wicked grin.

Hajime felt was his face burning. _Damn it, even the captain knows I like him?_  

But now, instead of the worry and fear that bubbled up every time Hajime thought of Tooru during the set, it was Tooru eating berries and cream in the sun. And those kids who thought jump serves were the  _best_ no matter where the ball actually landed.

Akao must've seen something in his expression that he approved of, because he punched Hajime in the shoulder ( _seriously, ow_ ) then got back into position.

 _"Stop being a fucking dickwad,"_ echoed Hajime's mind.

_Eh, not the worst piece of advice in the world._

Hajime chuckled to himself, then prepared for a jump serve.

 

* * *

 

Tooru was still out for the second set.

And the third.

The match was a close one. Hajime's serve on set point had won Seijoh the set, but then they lost the second. Now, the two teams were locked in a deuce at 26 points for the third and final set. By now, even the fearsome "Twin Giants" of Wakunan were losing height in their jumps; everyone was exhausted.

_Well, we're not gonna make it. We did lose last time too—_

Hajime's thought was interrupted by a shrill _fweeeeeet—!._ Akao had asked for a time-out.

The team wandered off the court in a daze.

_"HEY!"_

The captain. "What is  _wrong_ with you people, huh? You _trying_ to make me look bad? We're fighting until the very end. At least I know _I_ am. I even gave up the chance for a fancy university education for this team!"

The team looked stunned for a moment but then broke out into chuckles and amused snorts. Hajime rolled his eyes with a smile. It was common knowledge that Akao was already set on managing his family's restaurant after graduation and not at _all_  missing out on exam prep by staying in the club.

The captain continued. "I'm tired. You all look tired too."

The team mumbled in affirmation.

"Crawling through mud to the bitter end is ugly. It sucks. But _that_ ," Akao jabbed a finger towards their team banner in the stands, "that says that we rule the court. Kings, all of us."

The captain paused, taking a few moments to look around at his teammates.Then, he said,

"Kings don't always win. But we'll rule until we die."

 

"Whoa," Hajime breathed; he wasn't the only one who fell under a spell cast by Akao's speech. 

_Holy shit, Captain. That was... really cool?_

"Can't let the captain take all the glory," said Takahiro. He clapped Akao on the back, who smirked at him in return.

"Let's do this."

 

* * *

 

Back, and forth, and back, and forth. Both teams fought and struggled, unable to score consecutive points as the game pushed on.

It was 28 to 29, Seijoh to Wakunan. Yahaba went for the same serve strategy he used Shiratorizawa, trying to trap one of the "Giants" in the back to limit their offensive options. But the Wakunan libero picked it up instead, passing it to the setter.

Hajime was watching carefully. It was going to Number 2, that second year Little Giant.

He ran up to Issei and Akao at the net.

"Hoooold... and, go!" Issei directed.

The timing was good. Wakunan's number 2 faced Seijoh's three man block, took a huge backswing, and _—_

"Argh!" Hajime and Issei both grunted. Number 2 had gotten his angle just right, jamming the ball into their fingers. It ricocheted off away, flying back to Wakunan's side and _—_

... out of bounds.

28 to 30, set and match to Wakunan. Aoba Johsai was now eliminated from the Spring High tournament.

"Whaaaat?"  
"Man, that Nakashima. He's gonna be even more of a pain to play next year."  
"Seijoh _lost?!_ "  
"Good match!"  
"We'll get them next year!"

Hajime rubbed his fingers. _We were so close... we could've taken the match!_ He thought back to his blocked spikes, missed serves _—_

Something hard hit his back. It hurt. The captain was holding water bottles out to Hajime and Issei.

"Well, shit," said Akao. "But we put up a pretty decent fight at the end."

"Sor _—_ " Hajime started to say, but the captain snatched his water bottle back and bonked him on the head. 

" _OW_ I mean, thanks, Captain." 

"Thank you for everything, Akao-san," said Issei.

"Saps. Both of you," Akao said. He hesitated for a moment, then awkwardly pat Issei and Hajime on their heads. "The coaches are waiting, come on," said the captain, and jogged towards the bench.

 _Oh man,_ Hajime thought, _I might actually miss this guy._

He turned to join the rest of his team but froze when a woman caught his eye.

_Oikawa-san._

She was leaving the gym, straggling a few steps behind her husband and son. Tooru was walking with a slight limp, leaning heavily on his dad's arm. Tooru's mom seemed to be scanning the gym when she made eye contact with Hajime.

He had a million questions. But all he could do was look at her.

Oikawa-san closed her eyes and shook her head. She followed her husband and son out the door.

 

* * *

_**A long time ago.** _

Hajime was upset.

_Restless._

He had loved sitting on the front steps of their house, petting the cat as she stretched and basked in the sunlight. _And she looked so happy, so why isn't she coming back? Did she find another family? Is she okay?_

"Mom, _mom_ , we have to go find her!" Hajime urged.

"But she was never our cat, Hajime," his mom replied gently, shaking her head.

 _And Tooru was never mine. Isn't_ _._

_Will he disappear and never come back, some day?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of part one. Thank you for reading, and see you all at Seijoh's spring training camp :)


	10. Two of a kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Every serve and block by the captain and vice._
> 
> _Every toss and spike by the setter and ace._
> 
> _Every beginning and end._
> 
> _A true a-un pair._

"The captain's here?!"  
"Oi, Oikawa!"  
"Captain!"

Hajime smiled. _Finally._  

He knew today would be great. It was the first day of his first training camp with the Seijoh team. Even though it was just at a nearby university, camps away from home were always fun. Today was also the day that Tooru would finally be cleared to play volleyball, more than two months after he walked off the court at the Spring High prelims. It was the first day Hajime would get to see Tooru in more than a week, thanks to exams—a week too long for Hajime, who'd gotten used to visiting Tooru in the hospital or at home almost every day since that Wakunan match.

Today was the start of five days of volleyball, five days of Tooru where he belonged.

_He still looks pale... but he looks so much better here than in a hospital bed._

"Now, now. Save your excitement for our special guest this week," Tooru told his team with a wink. They looked at the gym door, buzzing with excitement—

—which very quickly turned into something else.

"What."  
"Him?!"  
"No way."  
"Ughh _seriously?!_ "

The team groaned. The players who didn't look annoyed looked pissed off, Hajime realized, and he studied the newcomer with equal parts curiosity and caution.

"Kyouken-chan is back!" Tooru announced happily.

" _Don't_ call me that," the boy Tooru had just called a Mad Dog lashed out with a dry, raspy voice—barked, really, living up to his nickname.

" _Ughhhhh_ , are you _kidding_ me?" Yahaba reached up and slapped himself in the forehead. Hajime gave him a questioning look.

"Kyoutani Kentarou, first year—ah, I guess we're second years now. Wing spiker. He came to a grand total of _two_ practices last year. You never met him—those practices were both during exams for second years. I think he was avoiding Oikawa-san, actually."

"Kyouken-chan" could give Coach Mizoguchi a run for his money in being the least "-chan"-like person Hajime had ever met. He had short, cropped hair, blond except for two horizontal strips left unbleached running from temple to temple. He was lean and wiry, with large hands that probably packed a punch on (and off) the court. There was a permanent scowl etched on his face.

"Who the hell made _him_ captain?" Kyoutani growled, stabbing a finger towards Tooru.

The team erupted in protest.

" _Everybody_  actually, so show some respect, you—"  
"Like you can talk, Kyoutani—"  
"What do _you_ know, asshole, coming here like—"

Hajime gripped Yahaba's arm to stop him from charging at Kyoutani. Admittedly, Hajime was finding it hard not to shut this Kyoutani up himself. Other members of the team didn't have quite as much self-restraint and started to round on Kyoutani—

"Uh- _uh_ ," sang Tooru, wagging his finger.

And then it was like the room temperature dropped ten degrees. Tooru swept his icy gaze across the crowd. He had _the look_ —the same as Yahaba's murderous glare.  _Which he probably picked up from Tooru in the first place._

"No fighting on _my team_."

 _Ah, not ice_. _Blue and white-hot flames that incinerate on contact_ , Hajime thought, looking into the captain's eyes. _Beautiful and deadly._

Tooru was now completely focused on Kyoutani. In response, the younger boy took a slightly crouched stance, his muscles as taut as the string of a bow: ready to fight or flee. Hajime was both amused at Kyoutani's instinctive reaction and sympathetic to the fact that he was facing off with Tooru in his most intimidating state.

After a few painfully long moments, Kyoutani broke eye contact and his muscles relaxed. He took a few steps closer to the team. It was over, and everyone released the breath they were holding.

"Hill sprints, anyone?" Tooru asked pleasantly.

 

* * *

 

Outside, the cherry blossoms were in bloom. Their falling petals dotted the clear, blue sky with delicate, pink swirls before landing gently atop the soft, dense grass on the side of the hill.

The effect was somewhat spoiled by the dozen or so sweaty teenagers currently stumbling up this hill, panting and groaning. Some were crawling, even, reaching their arms towards the top like men dying of thirst towards an oasis.

"Haa... hh.. h... 'Heartbreak hill,' huh," Takahiro panted. "More like 'Leg break hill.'"

"Wh.. wh... why?" Issei croaked. The two third-years had finished their sprints and were now were trying to recover, sitting in the grass at the top of the hill and sipping cups of water.

"Because," Takahiro said, when he'd managed to catch his breath, "I wanna break off my fucking legs so they don't hurt so damn much."

Issei rolled his eyes but was laughing all the same. "Hiro, that makes zero sense."

" _Those_ _two_ make zero sense. Look at them. They look like they just went for a stroll in the park."

Issei sat up a little taller to see. Hajime and Tooru were lying on their backs, propped up on their elbows and apparently enjoying a nice, leisurely chat.

" _Ugghhh_ ," Issei groaned, and slumped over on his side.

 

* * *

 

"Ahh, that was such a good run! I missed this," said Tooru.

Hajime just stared; he'd kept up with running even after quitting volleyball but could barely keep up with Tooru. If the captain could sprint like this after being in the hospital for over a month and missing practice since January, what was he capable of before? Hajime got the feeling that he'd only ever seen a fraction of Tooru's athletic ability.

He laid back down in the grass, hands pillowing his head, and enjoyed the sunshine—marveling at the captain and thinking about what this year would be like for the team. Tooru's hand came into his field of view.

"So, Iwaizumi-kun, please give us your thoughts on your recent promotion to vice-captain of the Aoba Johsai boys' volleyball team," said Tooru, rolling onto his side and sticking his fist in front of Hajime like a microphone.

"What th—"

"Your fans are listening, Vice-Captain!"

"Oh _fine_ ," said Hajime. Wow, he gave in to Tooru really easily these days.

"Um. Well, I realized something, being at Seijoh. Everyone has a reason to play volleyball. A reason they hold close to their heart. Something that supports them out on the court. To chase after their hero. To impress their girlfriend. To hear their fans scream their name. So maybe your teammates aren't the only ones supporting you. Even when you feel alone, exhausted, defeated... that reason can sustain you."

"What about you? What's your reason? What supports you on the court?"

Hajime sat up, took a deep breath, then turned to look down into the other boy's eyes.

"It's you. Tooru."

 

The silence was almost unbearable. Hajime looked away, trying to calm himself down, but felt his face start to burn anyway.

"Um," said Hajime. His throat was dry. "Is... Is that okay?"

Still, nothing. 

At last, Hajime found the courage to look back. Tooru was sitting up, hugging his legs to his chest and hiding his face in his arms. Hajime's mind immediately started to race for an excuse, a way to play it off as a joke, anything to cover up the last two minutes of his life. But all of that screeched to a halt when Tooru turned his head and met Hajime's eyes.

It was like the first time Hajime had seen him, that split second when they'd made eye contact in the middle of Tooru's jump serve.

A beautiful spring day with cherry blossoms in the air almost exactly one year ago.

Hair framing his features just so, eyes startlingly wide, cheeks slightly flushed.

Except this time, Tooru smiled.

"Of course it is."

 

* * *

 

On day four of the camp, the new first years arrived. In true Seijoh fashion, Coach Irihata immediately threw them to the wolves. The wolves, of course, being their upperclassmen.

Two first years were assigned to teams with the starting players. It was a somewhat unusual 4 vs. 3 arrangement:

Yahaba (S), second year  
Kyoutani (WS), second year  
Kunimi (WS), first year  
Watari (L), second year

Oikawa (S), third year  
Iwaizumi (WS), third year  
Kindaichi (MB), first year

"Uhh," said Yahaba. "Isn't this a little unbalanced? Can't we at least get a middle blocker?" Oikawa's team consisted of the two tallest players present and the ace. Yahaba's included a ticking time bomb and a total unknown.

"Wellll, Motocchi is in the infirmary recovering, he's just a bit dehydrated but he should rest. Mattsun is working with some first years on blocking. That's why Watacchi is here! If you split his height up three ways, you guys will all be taller than us. Yes, Kunimi?" The captain nodded at the first-year, whose hand had been raised. 

"Oikawa-senpai, if our warmup is to chop up Libero-san, I will not be participating. It sounds very tiring."

Somewhere, crickets chirped.

Oikawa's jaw dropped. Yahaba was pretty sure that the shock of someone taking one of his crappy jokes seriously had made him blow a fuse. Kindaichi looked like he didn't know if he was supposed to laugh. Everyone else just stared.

"Hey, he's funny, you guys," Watari said happily. He gave Kunimi a hearty slap on the back.

"Are we playing or _what_ ," Kyoutani said through gritted teeth.

"Uhm, yeah. Let's start. We'll receive," said Iwaizumi, herding his teammates to their side of the court.

"I really do want to sit out if that happens," muttered Kunimi.

 

* * *

 

" _Man_ you've got long arms!" Watari exclaimed happily. 

Kindaichi looked a little confused; he'd just scored because Watari couldn't make it to the ball on time, and the libero was  _thrilled._

For Watari, this was a great practice match. He'd been training with Coach Mizoguchi's serves and spikes; in comparison, almost every high school spiker became an interesting challenge rather than an intimidating obstacle. Iwaizumi was always good practice, and this new first-year added an interesting twist with the height of his contact point.

Yahaba wasn't so excited about being on the team losing by 11 points. Kyoutani was fucking pissed, which surprised no one, and Kunimi just jumped blocks and hit tosses like they were in line for drills.  

 _Something happened,_ thought Yahaba.  _This isn't normal._

Even considering their height, power, and skill, Oikawa's team was much too fast and overwhelming. True, Kindaichi seemed to improve in a matter of minutes, but Yahaba thought there was a good reason for that from what he'd seen of Kitagawa Daiichi himself. _Must be happy to get away from Kageyama Tobio._  For Kindaichi, Oikawa's clean, textbook tosses to the first-year went a long way. 

The mystery was Iwaizumi. Usually, the vice-captain preferred third tempo attacks, waiting until the ball's trajectory was clear before approaching. It worked well with Oikawa, who used this to manage Iwaizumi's position on the court. Yahaba stuck with third tempo, too; having the spiker match his toss gave him more breathing room than trying to aim and time his toss with a moving target.

Not today. Iwaizumi's run-up changed on every play, seamlessly transitioning from third tempo to first. He'd match himself up to Oikawa's toss for one spike, then lead the attack himself for the next, seeming to know without question that Oikawa will toss the ball exactly where they both thought it belonged. Without saying a word.

"It's like they can read each other's minds," Kindaichi said in awe.

Yahaba agreed. It was silent but flawless communication, the debut of a brutal first tempo attack so smooth that it was like they'd been practicing it for years instead of months, this setter and ace who belonged on the national stage.

 _How are they playing like this?_ wondered Yahaba, now watching the pair more carefully. The two of them with their high-fives turning into fingers intertwined and smiles dripping with affection.

_Ah._

Yahaba figured it out, then.

_It's because they can't take their eyes off each other._

 

 _Wearing their hearts on their sleeves like this. It's... actually a little embarrassing to watch,_  thought Yahaba. _It's not just "teamwork" any more; they're confessing to each other right here on the court._

Now that he knew the magician's trick, the little details couldn't be unseen. Oikawa and Iwaizumi were reading each other constantly. Yahaba pinpointed at least one or two tells for the pair's synchronized plays: how quickly Iwaizumi bounced on his feet just before a run-up seemed to affect the speed of Oikawa's toss. The expression on Oikawa's face when he scanned the court for Iwaizumi might've determined who would act first: setter or ace. Minute actions like that probably directed their every move, today.

_Do they even know they're playing like this? Is it all pure instinct?_

You could see it everywhere:

Every serve and block by the captain and vice.

Every toss and spike by the setter and ace.

Every beginning and end.

A true  _a-un_ pair.

It was _perfect trust_.

 

* * *

 

Takahiro found Issei staring intently at some match— _oh, right_. The one Tooru and Hajime were playing in, teamed up with some spiky haired kid. He sighed and joined in with Issei, both watching in silence.

Until Issei asked, "Do you believe in soulmates?" 

"Huh?!" Takahiro looked over at his friend, startled at the sudden question. Not exactly one that came up all that often during volleyball practice. _"Do you have an extra towel?" "Did you see that play?" Even a rhetorical "Ugh, can you believe I ran out of clean underwear?" Totally normal._

Issei was still staring straight ahead. 

"I used to think that I had to compete with Tooru. I hated it," said Issei when he finally spoke up again. "First of all, it's _exhausting_ , plus I don' t think I'm—"

"Hey now, don't finish that sentence," Takahiro interrupted. "You're—"

"Hiro, let me finish. I don't think I'm in love with Hajime any more," said Issei. 

"Oh," Takahiro replied in a small voice.

"It's been obvious for a while, right? The way they are around each other? I really was happy for them then, too, but I was happy and a little bitter. Maybe jealous. Now... I'm just happy for them. I mean, watching this," Issei waved towards the court, "would be a _nightmare_ if I still loved Hajime like that."

Takahiro didn't quite understand, why would watching them play—

 _Oh. Jesus Christ, those two,_ thought Takahiro. _That high-five is a total crap excuse for gazing into each other's eyes are they even trying to be discreet, ugh I can't—_

He looked away. "Oh God. This is like seeing your parents make out." 

Issei laughed. "I know, right? The way they're playing, too."

"Yeah, I noticed. I can only read what you're about to do with a block like once or twice a set, but definitely not like this."

"Wh— you can?! I mean, you do that?" Issei clapped a hand over his own mouth. He didn't expect to just blurt that out, but he really, really didn't expect to hear that from Hiro. _This guy keeps catching me off guard, these days._  

"Yeah, for ages now, is that so— oh. Um..." Takahiro trailed off when he realized what he was saying. Issei still kept his eyes on the match, but there was a slight blush blooming high on his cheeks. 

"Um... yeah. Anyway, this is why I brought up soulmates. Working from cues that subtle. Are these habits that came from practice? Can't be, they've barely known each other for a year, and Tooru was out for a lot of it," reasoned Issei. "So the other explanation, maybe it's something like... instinct, almost. From, I don't know, some past life where all of this experience is coming from. Maybe there was some version of them who'd been together all their lives, playing volleyball since they were kids. I'm sure they can feel it themselves... this isn't getting together, it's getting _back_ together. And when even we can see it? I think it's clear. Soulmates."

Takahiro was silent for a long, long time. Now _he_ couldn't look over at Issei, just stared straight ahead, because how could he look at him when he really needed to ask,

"Do you think you have one? A soulmate?"

"Yeah, I think so," Issei replied. 

_Whoa he didn't even have to think don't ask who don't ask who don't ask who oh my God who is it—_

Issei seemed to know exact what was going through the other boy's mind. "It's Yuki-chan, obviously." 

 _Holy shit do I know a Yuki?_  Takahiro's thoughts were racing faster than his heart was during those hill sprints. Is there someone Issei felt that attached to but hadn't ever talked about, hadn't even introduced to them? 

And then everything screeched to a halt. _Waaaaait a minute._

"Yuki? Yuki-chan, _your dog?!_ " Takahiro said incredulously.

"Well, yeah. I love her and she loves me. The world feels right when we're together," explained Issei, like he was telling Takahiro the sky was blue. 

Takahiro mentally patted himself on the back for not having a heart attack just now. "She is pretty cute," he said, trying to act casual. He wheezed out some kind of weird laugh-ish sound. 

"Isn't she? Yuki really doesn't like it when you sing, though," Issei pointed out, "so we might have a problem."

Takahiro started to laugh, but _—_ _Wait. Wait wait wait he's kidding, right? Am I— Is there really a problem? Holy crap—_

" _Buuut_ I kind of like it. I think the three of us can work something out," said Issei, finally looking at Takahiro. His hand was covering part of his mouth, trying to hide a huge grin. 

Takahiro couldn't decide if he wanted to punch him or kiss him. Probably both.

_Oh man, Matsukawa Issei is trying to kill me, and I love it._

 

* * *

 

"Tooru. Hey, Tooru."

"Huh? 's practice over?" Tooru mumbled, barely awake. His back hurt; apparently he'd been sleeping while sitting against a wall.

"Yeah, dinner's over too," replied Hajime.

 _Shit. When did I pass out?_  This was happening a lot more often than the doctors said. _How was I out so long?_

At this moment, Hajime's voice was the reassuring lifeline Tooru needed to get his mind off hospitals and blood tests and questions with no answers. He was squatting down to be at eye level with Tooru, and said, "I grabbed a bunch of food from the cafeteria before they closed. Wanna eat? It's all upstairs."

"'kay." Tooru stretched his arms, felt a few satisfying pops in his back, then st—

_Um._

Tooru tried again. He planted his hands on the ground, pushing himself forward to shift his weight on his legs.

He fell back on his butt.

_What the fuck._

"Need help?" Hajime stood up and held out his hand. Tooru took it, pulling _hard_ to lift himself further off the floor. But his legs were just... there. Heavy. A little bit tingly, and—

"Whoa, easy. Still asleep?" Hajime laughed. Tooru was falling back against the wall again, but Hajime had caught him by his waist on his way down.

"That tired, huh. Hey, c'mon, let's go." Hajime let go of Tooru's waist, and Tooru immediately collapsed. By reflex, he yanked hard on Hajime's hand to try and slow the fall. Hajime lurched forward, bracing his arm against the wall just in time to avoid smashing face-first into it. 

" _Whoooaaa hey!_ Jesus _Christ_ Tooru, stop messing—" 

Tooru's head had knocked against the wall on his way down, and he barely had the presence of mind to throw out an elbow before his face hit the floor. His legs were crumpled awkwardly in front of him, their position determined entirely by gravity and physics rather than by reflex or will. 

Hajime looked down at Tooru and Tooru looked up. Both boys' faces were pale and expressionless.

Tooru was quickly losing his ability to do anything other than holding back the painful, blood-curdling scream that was building inside him.

_No no no no no no I'll sleep this off it'll go away they said it wouldn't—_

Hajime dropped to his knees again to look straight at Tooru. "Tooru. Tooru, please. Are you okay? Did you hit your head? Ahh, shit. Are you okay here alone for a minute? I don't have my phone, but I can run and get one of the coaches and come right back."

Tooru shook his head furiously. _That would make all of this real._

"Then," Hajime asked tentatively, "Upstairs? Can I..." His hands hovered above one of Tooru's legs, not wanting to startle or hurt him. Tooru nodded, though his brain still refused to accept any part of this situation. It was like watching someone else sit there, dully looking on as Hajime carefully unfolded those legs that had betrayed him. 

Hajime got on his knees with his back facing Tooru, scooting back as far as he could between the setter's legs.

"The stairs are too narrow for me to just pick you up and go, we'll have to piggyback. Can you get your arms... yeah, okay. You got it. In a sec I'll grab your legs and stand, okay? Lean forward when you feel me stand."

"Iwa-chan..." Tooru said, softly. He tried to sniffle quietly but thought Hajime might've heard, anyway.

"C'mon, let's go upstairs and talk. Or eat. Whatever you want. Ready?" After three tries and a lot of effort, Tooru was able to pull part of himself onto Hajime's back, doing his best to get in position for Hajime to reach back and loop an arm around each of his thighs. At last, Hajime stood with Tooru securely on his back and headed upstairs.

"Iwa-chan?"

"Hm?" They were almost at their room, now.

"Iwa-chan, I'm sorry..." Tooru tried to turn his head so that none of his tears would fall on Hajime.

" _What?_  Why the hell—" Hajime picked up the pace. They couldn't talk like this. 

"Iwa-chan..." Tooru couldn't say it, after all.

_How can I support you when I can't even support myself?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [_A-un_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A-un) = the beginning and the end, like alpha and omega. It's a concept that is very very very tied into the characters Oikawa and Iwaizumi. There are lots of posts online about this (their names, Kageyama calling them _a-un no kokyuu_ ) that are fun to read about!
> 
> A note on timeline [here](https://cubpen.tumblr.com/post/158754748291/chapter-9-10-timing-haikyuu-timeline).


	11. You'll do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Everyone has a reason to play volleyball._  
>  (It's you, now)
> 
> _A reason they hold close to their heart_  
>  (No idea how it happened)
> 
> _Even when you feel alone, exhausted, defeated... that reason can sustain you._

People who knew anything at all about Miyagi volleyball always asked Yahaba why he'd choose the same school as Oikawa Tooru.

"You'd never get to play!"  
"Wouldn't you be in his shadow the entire time? You'll be nobody."  
"Doesn't having to wait 'til your third year piss you off?"

 _It's not like that at all,_ Yahaba thought. He chose Aoba Johsai  _because_ Oikawa was on that team. To Yahaba, this was about something much more important than when he'd get to play in an official match or making a name for himself. 

Yahaba started playing volleyball in elementary school. He thought it was an okay way to spend the time and, more importantly, a reason to put off homework for another couple of hours. He was one of many wing spikers, which was fine, too. As long as he put in some effort, he'd get to stay on the team with his friends.

In junior high, a lot of Yahaba's friends stopped playing. But it had become part of his routine. School? Check. Volleyball practice? Check. Homework? Check. Day after day after day. It was better than the going home club, at least.

Volleyball changed when he found out about Oikawa Tooru.

"That setter just started playing volleyball? He's one of Kitaichi's best players!"  
"He's only a first year? Wow."  
"Oikawa is amazing. I heard he practices hours every day, and that's on top of regular team practice."

_Hours? Every day? Why?_

Yahaba was intrigued. The only thing he worked at every day was homework, but everyone had to do that. So he went to Kitagawa Daiichi one weekend to watch this Oikawa play.

It was completely overwhelming. 

_"Go! Go! Tooru! Push it, push it, Tooru!"_

_"Kita-ichi! Kita-ichi!"_

The Kitagawa Daiichi team moved like they were performing choreographed dance routines. Each player held their own unique roles, and Oikawa was the music that established rhythm, pace, and style; the beat that united the team as surely as a metronome—steady, persistent, reliable.

It was mesmerizing. 

_"Oikawa!! Oikawa!!"_

The setter faked a toss and scored with a dump shot instead, taking the opposing team completely by surprise. The crowd roared, and his fans waved their "Go Oikawa" banner wildly and screamed his name ( _They're here just for him?!_ ). The team, the people in the stands, the flow of the game, _the entire court_ —they all belonged to Oikawa Tooru. 

Kitagawa Daiichi won in straight sets. In the wake of their victory, the team was a mess of high fives and fist bumps and good cheer. Yet once again Oikawa stood out. He had this giant grin, goofy and a little toothy, that radiated pure and unfiltered joy. Yahaba couldn't remember the last time he'd grinned like that himself. His smiles were carefully calculated to appease or blend in or get by: there was a smile for teachers, one for classmates, one for his grandparents, one for strangers... None of those smiles ever looked like this. 

_Can I laugh like that with my team after a match?_

_Can volleyball be this much fun?_

The gym emptied after the match, but Oikawa stayed. Yahaba watched from afar as the setter practiced serves by himself.

 _I want to understand how he does any... no, how he does_ all _of this._

_I can figure it out if I chase after him._

Yahaba texted one of his friends, a wing spiker on his team.

"Hey about that favor. Meet me at the park at 7 tonight? I need you to help me become a setter."

 

* * *

 

"Hey, Iwaizumi-san!" Yahaba waved, carrying a tray full of food to the vice-captain's table in the cafeteria. "I didn't see you at dinner last night so I was about to bring you something... um... hello? Senpai?"

Iwaizumi was staring at the table with a blank expression. _But he's shaking_ , noticed Yahaba. The vice-captain looked like he was barely holding himself upright, with clenched fists pressed into his thighs, elbows locked, and arms vibrating with tension.

Yahaba looked around. This was kind of a weird spot to sit in, an alcove tucked away around the corner. "Um," he tried again. "Want me to go get the captain?"

As expected, just mentioning Oikawa made Iwaizumi look up. But then Yahaba instantly regretted it, because the look on Iwaizumi's face then was—

 _Broken_.

"Wait, is he...? What—"

"Went home. Probably the hospital by now. Worst it's ever been. His mom said. It was never supposed to—"

Yahaba set the tray down on the table and placed a firm hand on Iwaizumi's shoulder.

"You should eat. Talk or alone, senpai?"

Iwaizumi let out a shaky breath. "Alone. But thanks."

"Got it. I've got a plan. Watari's a people-magnet, everyone likes listening to his stories. If I get him to sit over by the food, the team'll just hang out over there. Text if you need anything before practice, okay?" Yahaba gave Iwaizumi's shoulder a squeeze before going to find Watari.

 

* * *

 

Of all the things on the tray Yahaba brought him, Hajime decided on the yakisoba bread and strawberry milk for breakfast.

_(Everything reminds me of you.)_

_"Iwa-chan,_ what _are you eating."_

_"Fried chicken and potato salad. And yakisoba bread."_

_Tooru grimaced. "Just because there are doctors everywhere doesn't mean you need to give yourself a heart attack."_

_"Oikawa, you just drank two strawberry milkshakes. In January. There's still snow on the ground."_

_"Obviously, that's because the rules of mere mortals don't apply to me. And I need those nutrients to finish this homework."_

_Hajime snorted, reaching over to wipe a bit of milkshake off Tooru's chin._

He wandered out of the cafeteria and made it to practice, somehow. Yahaba probably helped, but Hajime didn't really know; it all blurred together. Stretching, jogging, waiting in line to spike, a few kind words from the setter maybe, more jogging, more spiking...

_(Everything reminds me of you.)_

_"Welcome to remedial spiking practice!"_

_"You don't want to spend time alone with the great Oikawa-san?"_

_The sensation of lips tickling his ear just before a warm breath carried those words deep within him, and the feeling that someone thought he was capable of doing great things. Realizing that he didn't have to fight alone: "We will rule the court, Iwaizumi Hajime."_

_Everyone has a reason to play volleyball._  
_(It's you, now)_

 _A reason they hold close to their heart._  
_(No idea how it happened)_

_Even when you feel alone, exhausted, defeated... that reason can sustain you—_

Hajime looked up, surprised by the sound of chairs being thrown around.

"AAARGH! Fuck this shit!" He heard someone yell. Then it was heavy footsteps rapidly stomping away, a door creaking open and slamming shut.

Yahaba still had his hands raised from his last toss; he seemed frozen. _Petrified_. A few other players stood near the back of the court. Back attack drills? Hajime had no idea what was going on. 

"Um... Can we. Can we—break? Five minutes?" Yahaba stuttered. The team dispersed.

Only Hajime and Yahaba were in the gym, now. The setter was lying on his back, covering his eyes with one arm and slamming his fist into the floor over and over with the other.

"Whoa, _whoa_ , hey. Your hand," Hajime said as he rushed over, reaching low to catch Yahaba's arm.

"I can't do it."

"What?" Hajime asked.

"I'm not like him at all. He can lead the entire team without saying a word. But if it's just me, no one will listen, and then they'll stop caring, and then the team—"

_No, you're so alike. You don't even know._

_(Everything reminds me of you)_

_Everyone has a reason. Something that supports them out on the court._

_To chase after their hero, to impr—_

_Oh._

_God, I'm still a such a piece of self-centered trash._

"Hey. Hey, Yahaba. Look, that's not true, and I should've been helping you anyway—"

"No, I'm just not strong enough! You need time— You and Oikawa-san are—"

"Yahaba." Hajime interrupted, sternly. "I had no right to leave you stranded out there when you're worried and hurting too. This is just a guess, but I think he means as much to you as he does to me."

After a long pause, the setter said softly, "I think you were pretty out of it earlier when Coach, um. Coach said that Oikawa-san, he's... He's officially on leave from the team. From school."

Hajime's blood ran cold.

"Of course, you're the captain until Oikawa-san is back. Then there was a vote, and I'm the new vice-captain. God knows why any—"

"Good, because I need your help," Hajime interrupted. "The team. We'll keep it—no, we'll make the team better and better. We'll make sure the team's ready when Oikawa gets back, and then we're all going to Nationals. Got it? We're in this together."

"But I can't even— Kyoutani... Oikawa-san could've handled him."

_Of course that's who stormed off._

"You're a lot more like Oikawa—you're more alike than you know," Hajime said. "But you're also your own person. Everyone picked you for a reason. I would've voted for you, too, if I wasn't over there being a dumbass and feeling sorry for myself."

Yahaba was shaking his head, but Hajime continued.

"You'll figure out a way. I have to do that too. But if I can help you, like you've been helping me..." Hajime scratched his head, thinking back to the 3-on-4 match. "How about this: the coaches told Tooru and me to spend some time working with individual players every practice. Let's try that. What if you take the first-years from Kitaichi? Your tosses should feel pretty familiar to those two. Let me go talk to them when break's over."

"And," Hajime said, "I'll take Kyoutani."

Yahaba stared, wide-eyed, before giving the new captain a tiny smile.

"We've got a lot of work to do, vice-captain." Hajime grinned.

_"There's a lot to be scared of on the court. Of accidents, of letting your teammates down, of letting yourself down. But we go out there anyway because we live and love volleyball. Because there is a chance to be a part of a perfectly orchestrated team of individual but harmonious strengths. Of finding the perfect trust, the belief that your teammates will always do their best when you're counting on them the most. I believe that Aoba Johsai is where we can build this team."_

_(Everything reminds me of you and damn it, Tooru, you just won't let me give up.)_

 

* * *

 

"Ahh... It's Iwaizumi-san, right?"

Hajime peered up at the spiky-haired boy who ran up to him right when break ended.

"Kindaichi?"

"Oh! Yes!" The first-year beamed, but then it was like a storm cloud passed over his head. Hajime could swear he saw the boy's hair droop.

"I, I was wondering if you know... Is Oikawa-san okay? Kunimi," continued Kindaichi, "my friend the new wing spiker? He said that he saw you guys at a Kitaichi match before, so I thought you might be friends outside school too? Oikawa-san was sick a lot when we were in junior high, but he never went on leave or anything."

"Oh. Right. Uhh," Hajime stalled, wondering what he could say to assure Kindaichi without getting into any details. "He did have to go to the hospital a few times last year—"

Kindaichi's face fell.

"—But so far he's always made a good recovery. You saw how he played yesterday, right? He's only been out of the hospital for three weeks or so."

"Really?! That's great! Kindaichi exclaimed, smiling so sincerely that Hajime started to wonder if he'd sounded too optimistic.  _It's not like I'm lying, but..._

"I mean, I was looking forward to playing with Oikawa-senpai again. He always made things so easy..."

Hajime nodded knowingly, remembering Kindaichi's frustration at the tosses from that Kageyama. "Hey, you know Yahaba? The new vice-captain? Oikawa trained him all last year, so I think if you practice with his tosses for a while you'll have an easier time getting into a good rhythm here."

"And, Kindaichi... do me a favor?" Hajime continued.

"Yes! Senpai!" He was practically sparkling with excitement.

 _Definitely a giant marshmallow_ , thought Hajime. _Even better for easing Yahaba into all of this._

"Can you get your friend to join you? Kunimi?"

Kindaichi nodded eagerly and ran off.

_Well, that was the easy part._

 

* * *

 

_... Or maybe easy wasn't the right word._

Hajime frowned. The good news was that, by the time he finished talking to the coaches, Yahaba, Kunimi, and Kindaichi were already practicing. The bad news... from all of the bowing and hand gestures and pink faces, it looked like Kindaichi and Yahaba were apologizing to each other so much that not very much volleyball was happening at all. Kunimi seemed perfectly at peace with the situation, leaning against the net post and looking at nothing in particular.

But Hajime had his own student to deal with, starting with figuring out where the hell that student was; Kyoutani hadn't returned since storming off. Hajime was tempted to just let the guy go blow off steam or whatever he was doing, but the coaches insisted that he should at least try to bring Kyoutani back. Hajime checked the locker room and all over the dormitory building—no luck. He went for a jog, more to clear his head than to track Kyoutani down at this point. When Hajime got to the other side of campus, he recognized some noises coming from a cluster of buildings. Hajime found the one he was after: the gym with the familiar sound of volleyballs slamming into the floor.

Inside, there were only a few college students using the courts, practicing tosses and such in pairs or threes. But one person occupied a court all by himself, hitting serve after serve.

 _Kyoutani._ Hajime considered his options. He could go and yell at him. Try and drag him across campus. Ask politely. Reason with him. Threaten to kick him off the team.

_What am I supposed to do? I don't even know the guy—_

_Hm_.

Hajime found a spot against the wall far enough from Kyoutani to remain unseen, but close enough to see how he was hitting his serves. Tooru always knew exactly how every player would act and think and perform on the court, which must've come from intense and constant observation. And Yahaba's notes were probably one of the reasons why Seijoh was able to keep up with Wakunan at Spring High last year. It wouldn't hurt to give that kind of thing a shot himself. Plus, who knows how long it'd take to get Kyoutani back to practice? But Hajime could try and start to understand the first-year right now without wasting any time.

After sending a quick text to Yahaba and the coaches, and promising to himself that this was the last time he'd make Yahaba run practice alone, Hajime settled in his spot to observe.

 

* * *

 

Hajime looked at his phone and scrolled through his notes, satisfied with all of this new information about Kyoutani. Training camp was officially over, and now Hajime was looking forward to getting some rest. Last night, he only slept after Tooru left with his parents. Before that, it was whispering comforting words to try and take Tooru away from the fear and terror keeping him awake.

_A nap right now would be nice..._

Hajime nearly dropped his phone when it buzzed in his hand.

 **Oikawa Tooru** : If I stopped playing volleyball tomorrow, would you forget me?

He felt a giant lump in his throat. _What..._

 **Iwaizumi Hajime** : Tooru what are you talking about

 **Iwaizumi Hajime** : Of course I wouldn't

 **Oikawa Tooru** : But if I didn't have volleyball

 **Iwaizumi Hajime** : Tooru

He hit the call button.

_Please pick up please pick up please pick up_

"... Hi, Iwa-chan. Thought you didn't like talking on the phone."

"Eh, got tired of texting."

"..." 

"Tooru? Are you _—_ "

"Hey Iwa-chan?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me about camp today?"

Hajime smiled. "Sure."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect Yahaba to be such an important character in this fic until very recently, but here he is as a mix of Hiroko and Nagi from _Your Lie in April_ plus himself from _Haikyuu!!_ canon. There's also way more volleyball going on than I'd planned for...
> 
> Before these changes came to be, this fic featured a rather jealous and petty Hajime and a very emotionally volatile Tooru who pined after Hajime a bit too much. But I think, even though _April_ is heartbreaking in many ways, there was a lot of hope and positive growth and love throughout the series. I hope I can continue in this sort of direction for the rest of this story. Thank you for reading!


	12. Resonance (the two of us)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When their natural frequencies fall in sync, they _amplify_ each other. The partnership of two. The team of six.
> 
> * * *
> 
> _He got to the toss with the fastest run-up Yahaba had ever seen on this team. The spike itself looked effortless, but the speed and power rivaled some of Hanamaki's best hits. It blew everyone away._
> 
> _Everyone except Kindaichi. The upward tilt of his chin and the smirk that topped it gave him a distinct air of proud superiority in support of his friend and long-time teammate—kind of like a smug parent on sports day who acted like their kid was the best, certain that any other opinion was just plain silly._
> 
> * * *
> 
> _"So when Oikawa-san gets serious, we know he's being himself. We trust that everything he says is something he truly believes. Yahaba, when we were looking for a new vice-captain, we voted for the salty as fuck version of you because you always knew when to be chill and when to scare the shit out of us. I mean seriously, have you seen your murder face?"_
> 
> * * *
> 
> _Hajime whispered like he was telling the world's most precious secret. "I can see it in your eyes and feel it in your hands. You belong on the court, Oikawa Tooru."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a longer content warning here, but after rereading I think that a lot of Tooru and Hajime's conversations are open to several possible interpretations. Still, please be sure you are comfortable with the tags before you proceed!

It became a sort of pattern over the next few weeks: they only ever talked by phone, and the conversations were always full of red flags. They all sounded something like this: 

"What about today?" Hajime would ask. "There's no practice, so I can be there in ten minutes. Twenty five if you want that weird brand of milk bread again, there's only one store that sells the stuff now."

"Don't you have to study for that math exam tomorrow, Iwa-chan? And finish your history homework?" Tooru would always reply. 

This would be one of the times when warning bells would start going off in Hajime's head. Tooru passing on an opportunity to satisfy his esoteric interest in to-be-discontinued milk bread _and_ being considerate of Hajime's time?

"Oh. Right. Thanks, Tooru." He could never figure out a way to ask Tooru why. 

"..."

After long pauses like this was when sirens would blare. Where's the _"Poor Iwa-chan would fail all his classes without me?"_

"Hey, are you feeling okay?" Hajime would try very hard to sound casual. He was pretty sure he never pulled it off.

Tooru, on the other hand, always managed to cram casual and nonchalant and dismissive into just a few words, with his voice. "Sure. How's it going with Kyoutani?"

And there it was: deflecting every question about himself with volleyball talk.

Hajime's intuition screamed at him after each of these calls. _Something's wrong with Tooru! Call him out! Make him talk about it!_ But he didn't want to make any assumptions about Tooru's feelings, especially since he hadn't been able to confirm his suspicions in person. 

Plus Tooru always gave great volleyball advice, and Hajime needed all the help he could get. This year was already overwhelming—the difficulty and sheer quantity of third-year-level schoolwork was no joke, plus the team was proving to be a more than a handful. _If Tooru's still so interested in volleyball, then things can't be that wrong, right?_

"... Based on what you're saying, Iwa-chan, it sounds like he moves well. But the inconsistency is a problem."

"Yeah. I don't really want to sub him out in the back too much, since we need him for as many back attacks as he can give and Kunimi's no good for those. He doesn't have a great serve, either. We can cover Kyoutani on receives, so it's just his serve when he's back there. And before you even ask," said Hajime, "No, I haven't found a new pinch server."

"Mm, keep an eye on his temper just before he's up. If he got blocked or frustrated on the play before, does that affect his accuracy? Stuff like that. By the way, see how he interacts with all the wing spikers too. If I remember correctly, Kyoutani has a, hm, _primitive_ sense of hierarchy and power dynamics. Might affect him emotionally."

"Jeez, Tooru. Do you know how to take advantage of all our weaknesses? I don't know how I feel about being friends with you..."

"Why would I 'take advantage' of my friends?! I'm trying to make Kyouken-chan stronger!"

Hajime chuckled. "I know, I know."

"Good. Or else I'll have to tell everyone how weak you are to me," Tooru sniffed.

 _Ah, a bit of the old Tooru._ "Damn it, Shittykawa, your personality sucks!"

" _'I know, I know,'_ " Tooru imitated. "Now, how's Kindaichi doing?"

But Hajime would change things up, today; he'd go see Tooru and put these doubts to rest. After all, it's not _that_ strange for Tooru to care about the team and only focus on them, and Hajime's grades do affect his standing in the volleyball club...

_Right?_

Practice was in the morning, there were no tests this week, and Hajime even triple checked with Issei to make sure he didn't forget to finish any assignments—no more excuses for Tooru to keep him occupied and away from the hospital. He pictured the scene all day, seeing Tooru all smug but also a little bit happy, saying something like _"Oh, Iwa-chan just couldn't keep himself away from me"_ or _"Since I really am so generous and wonderful, I suppose I could help you with those fruit tarts."_ They'd make fun of each other and laugh and Hajime would see a little bit of color on Tooru's cheeks again, some of those sparkling lights behind his eyes—

— _what the..._

The blinds were drawn shut in Tooru's room, dimming the already drab blue and beige hues into washed out shades of gray. The harsh overhead lighting and the sharp angles of Tooru's face created an eerie, almost skeletal effect where the ridge of his brows cast deep shadows over his eyes. A voice Hajime barely recognized broke the silence.

"... what are you doing here?" Tooru said, with barely enough inflection for it to sound like a question. He sounded distant, with words as colorless as the room around him tinged with a hint of venom.

"Ah, I." Hajime was still catching his breath from running all the way here. "Just wanted, to visit."

"..."

"Tooru, are you okay? You seem—"

"Of _course_ I'm okay," he snapped.

"Tooru—"

"I asked you, _what are you doing here?_ "

It was that feeling again, like that night at the gym when they were still getting to know each other. Something was very, very wrong here, and Hajime had no idea what the problem was. After all the time they've spent together since then, he hated not being able to figure Tooru out.

"I—"

"Why. Why are you here," Tooru snarled, his voice getting louder and louder as he continued. "When you can be practicing? Going for a run? Working out at the gym? You don't have to be here so why are you, when you can go do ALL OF THOSE THINGS?" he screamed.

Hajime tried to ignore the ringing in his ears and the fear that they had somehow shattered their relationship beyond repair. Despite his efforts, anxiety still clawed at his lungs. He wanted to run, to get away before Tooru broke down.

_No, stop it. I'm here to figure things out with him._

"Tooru, I really wanted to see how you were doing. Is something happening with your legs?" _Was what happened at camp permanent?!_

"I think it's best if you leave." Quiet words full of cold fury. 

"Wh—"

 _But...? No fire in his eyes_ , thought Hajime. _Is this anger, or something else... ?_

"Seeing you here pisses me off, Iwaizumi. _Leave._ Don't bother coming back." 

Hajime left.

He left Tooru's room without looking back.

Kept walking until he left the wing.

Kept walking until he left the building.

And then he plopped right down on the first bench he could find, pulled out his phone, hoped that his instincts were right, and hit the call button.

Tooru picked up on the second ring. "Iwa— I thought I told you—"

"And I left, like you told me to. But you never said I couldn't call."

 _Well, he didn't hang up on me yet,_ thought Hajime. _Here goes nothing._  "The real answer? Why I'm here? It's one that I gave you before, but I'll say it again. You are my support, and... I want to be with you. See you, or even just listen to you on the phone if you don't want me to get in your space again. I want you and I want to play volleyball and to me it's not one or the other."

"... Why?" said Tooru. His voice cracked.

"Why do I want both?" Hajime huffed a little laugh. "Because I'm greedy?"

"Iwa-chan. I can't do anything for you. I can't be out there with you and everything is _can't_ or _didn't_ , there's so much I didn't do right and I didn't get _anywhere_ in time and _I can't anymore so why?_ " He'd raised his voice again, but there was no fight in it this time. Just... raw. And crumbling fast.

Hajime felt his chest constrict. He had to explain it to Tooru, properly.

"When I ended up on the team somehow last year, I was angry and I was scared. I thought the universe was shoving all of my mistakes in my face. So when you dragged me around and made all of these plans and decisions without saying a word, I could never figure out why I didn't just leave. I mean, really, you're persistent and annoying and nosy and don't ask for permission to do things—"

Tooru made a choked sound. Hajime pressed on.

"But I was _happy_. All I did was ruin my old team. You knew that from the start, and you still wanted me with you. You saw something in me worth believing in. Then when I got to know you, when you let me in—Tooru, even those parts of you that you think are ugly... don't you get it? You regret hitting Kageyama because you know it was a mistake, and you've been working hard since then to make sure you don't go off course. You even took a setter under your wing after that. You chase after Ushijima because of passion and drive. Because you believe in the idea of a real team and are willing to fight for it."

Hajime continued. "Yahaba and I would be fucked without you, right now—ah, maybe Yahaba would be all right. But all of those conversations we've been having. I still think if you as the captain, because you work hard for the team like everyone else. I know it's not the same, I mean, I'm not going to pretend that sitting here and talking on the phone is just as good as being out on the court."

"But with all of your help... Even when you're not around, it feels like you're backing me up."

_Ugh. I've said so many embarrassing things already... but this is all or nothing._

"And off the court. I like that you actually respond to all those notes your fans give you, because it reminds me that the world isn't just full of shitfaces who trample on people's hearts or take advantage of them. That people like you exist."

"You make me try things I'd never think of doing and sometimes they're _the actual worst_ —I haven't forgiven you for that awful beef bowl place you made us go to, by the way—but sometimes they're fun and amazing. Like hanging out with those little kids from your class at the park. Like how I actually kinda like milk bread now, though that's probably thanks to your dad and his skills and not you trying to literally shove it down my throat. You're weird and funny and a frustrating dumbass—"

Tooru snorted.

"—and you support me just by being you. So I'm here for selfish reasons, to be around the person I rely on. And I'm gonna ask for something else because, you know, greedy. Please, Tooru, please let me believe in you. I don't know if I can ever do as much for you as you did for me—as you're _doing_ for me—but will you let me try?"

"..."

Hajime cleared his throat, hesitating. "... Even if you don't ever wanna see me or talk to me any more, just know that there's at least one more person who thinks the world of you just as you are."

"..."

He waited for Tooru to respond. His mind told him it was becoming more and more of a lost cause as the seconds ticked by, so he started bargaining with himself. _It's only really over if he doesn't say anything in 20 seconds. No, 30. Okay, maybe a minute._

He kept losing count, but even without knowing how many seconds had gone by, it felt like too much time had already lapsed. Hajime closed his eyes, steeling himself to put the phone down and hang up.

He couldn't do it.

_Tooru I can't let you go so please don't shut me out—_

"Iwa-chan," Tooru croaked. Hajime barely heard him over the sound of his own heart pounding.

"... Yeah?"

"Milk bread. My dad's. Will you bring some? And ask my mom for my laptop... There're some things on there that I need to show you."

If Tooru had just asked him to go to Tokyo to hunt down even the most crappy and ridiculous dessert, he'd already be on a train before Tooru got the chance to tell him where to find it. He wanted to laugh, to yell at Tooru for being the worst dumbass in the universe, and then maybe cry a little when no one was looking. _I can't lose him. Ever._

"See you tomorrow, Tooru."

 

* * *

 

They still didn't really talk about anything other than volleyball after those two awful visits, the one where Hajime thought he'd never see Tooru again, and the one on the next day when he understood for the first time just how little anyone could do to stop Tooru's body from deteriorating.

But the air was different now. Hajime brought bring sweets and junk food to Tooru while lecturing him on dental health, and Tooru graded Hajime's self-study tests and _thanked_ him for giving the world tangible proof that _yes, Iwa-chan actually has no brain._

And then there were new patterns in their time together, ones that he didn't dread every single day like before; in fact, it was the complete opposite. Because it was when Hajime would fall asleep in his chair next to Tooru's bed and wake up to careful fingers running through his hair or tracing featherlight curves and swirls from his neck all the way down his arms to the back of his hand. He always pretended to be asleep through it all, knowing that it was the best way to keep the pattern from breaking.

And it didn't. Not until April had ended and the cherry blossoms had come and gone. It was during the last of these moments that Tooru said, "There's a surgical option. And I know you're listening, so don't pretend to wake up this time. Your horrible acting is funny and this is actually kind of serious."  

Hajime's head snapped up in alarm, mortified that Tooru knew he was awake and probably had known he was faking it every other time. It took him a few beats before he could actually process the real topic at hand.

"Wait, what? Surgery? You mean, could it—"

"It could—maybe—fix everything. Permanently."

"Holy shit Tooru are you serious?! This is—"

"There's always a catch, hm?"

Hajime said nothing.

"There are potential... permanent consequences."

"Oh. How bad—"

"The survival rate is low. Really low. Or it might not work. In that case I'd be out of options and stuck like this. Or worse."

"Have you... have you made a decision?"

Tooru frowned. "At first, I thought I'd do anything to play again. But the more I think about it, the more time I spend here—am I even a volleyball player now? It's been so long. I don't know who I am anymore, other than just...  _this_. The hospital. This body. I won't have a team or a goal and everyone will be so far ahead..."

"It won't be worth going back. To volleyball. To anything. What else is there for me? It's a lose-lose game: play it safe and be like this forever, or take a risk that, best case scenario, isn't even worth it in the end."

"Iwa-chan, I'll still love volleyball but it'll leave me behind."

Without a word, Hajime stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed, poking Tooru in the shoulder a few times. Tooru looked at him blankly.

"Hey, make some room. I wanna sit next to you."

"The chair won't fit over here—Iwa-chan, you mean on the bed?!"

"I'm on this side so I don't mess up your IV. Need help?"

"... No, just give me a second."

Tooru's face burned when he noticed Hajime watching him struggle. His legs were almost always like lead, now, and it took far too much arm strength and awkward scooting just to shift his body over a few inches. The bed wasn't made to hold two athletic teenagers, and it creaked and wobbled precariously as Hajime kept fussing over Tooru to make sure he was comfortable.

"Are you sure you're okay? Should I get off the bed?"

"This was your idea, Iwa-chan."

"I want you to be comfortable. Do you want me to move your legs a bit—"

" _Mom_ , stop."

"Don't call me that. Crappykawa."

Tooru rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. He really was comfortable, now that Hajime's warm and steady presence was right next to him. Tooru leaned into Hajime as much as he dared.

"Hey," said Hajime. "You told me about that amazing person you saw, who made you want to play volleyball. What was it about them?"

"Oh, you do actually listen to me when I talk, huh," said Tooru. Hajime elbowed him.

"I was sick a lot, when I was a kid. Not like this, but still pretty unhealthy. I got colds and stomachaches all the time, so I thought I was one of those kids, you know, the ones who don't play sports or go outside because they're 'not built that way.' I loved watching volleyball, but that was it. It was something cool that huge, powerful athletes did on TV."

"I saw that boy at a youth tournament where some of our family friends live. He wasn't very tall, and he was kind of chubby too, but he was still really good. And it looked like he was having so, so much fun. It'd been forever since 'fun' was even a word I thought about. By then everything in my world was either 'safe' or 'unsafe', _would it_ or _wouldn't it_ make me sick. Being scared of everything by default was just easier."

"And then this really ordinary kid appeared in front of me and he was _fearless_. At one point he jumped so hard for a spike that he actually took the net down with him. He looked so embarrassed, even though his whole team didn't care or was used to it or something. But he just kept scoring and scoring until they won the match."

"That's when I figured something out: the world can be harsh and you can't really do anything about that sometimes, but if you can figure out how to stop holding yourself back, to put away that embarrassment or shame or fear, then you can have fun and win and maybe even get a little stronger. Healthier."

"Watching him gave me courage. Determination. I wanted to be brave and have fun like that, and I decided that volleyball was how I'd do it."

Hajime hummed thoughtfully. "You said that the best case scenario wouldn't be worth it. Let's say you get to play volleyball again, but you can't until... 5 years from now. 10 years."

Tooru's face blanched at this.

"It's just an example, stupid. Do you seriously think that the future-you would stop thinking volleyball was fun just because you had to take a break? If you were physically able to play, isnt it possible that the challenge is actually you holding yourself back like before?"

"I don't know, I've never had to take a break before this year," Tooru grumbled with a pout. 

"It's not like you don't get to be a volleyball player anymore if you don't spend 10,000 hours on practicing serves in the next six months or if you don't win Nationals by graduation. You can still prove that team of six is strongest together, even if you miss the chance to face off with Ushijima."

"Plus, high school isn't our only chance to beat him. What if you can challenge him in university? Or in a pro league?"

"What if your goal for volleyball was to have fun with your team?"

Tooru frowned. Hajime suspected he still wasn't convinced.

"All right, look at it this way. Let's say you have an amazing recovery _and_ can play in a few months _and_  we beat Shiratorizawa at Interhigh or Spring High with you as our captain. Best case scenario, right? Knowing you, though, you'd probably find someone or something to chase in less than 24 hours. I mean, you probably won't be satisfied until you're an old, old man. Otherwise it'd be too hard for you to be annoying and persistent," Hajime smirked.

"Hey!" Tooru poked Hajime in the ribs. "Was that supposed to be a compliment? And are you putting a curse on me or something? 'Old, old man,' jeez..."

"Ow! I'm just stating the facts about your crappy personality—OW _goddamnit_ Tooru how are you even punching this hard when you're right next to me?!" 

Hajime continued. "Listen, listen. I just think, there's never _nothing_ for you out there. Even if your body changes. It might take a lot of time and a lot of energy, but you'll always find a newer, better reason to..." he closed his eyes for a moment. "... To _not_ give up. There are so many people out there who are cheering for you all the time even if you don't know it. Hoping that you'll keep going."

"And that definitely includes me. Tooru, we'll always help you catch up or try something new or whatever, just as long as you want it. We'll never leave you behind. I know I _can't_ , if I'm always gonna be by your side."

Hajime freed his arm that was wedged between the two of them and gently cradled Tooru's hand with his own. He smoothed his thumb over the palm, then over the fingers, before guiding the hand towards himself and placing a kiss on the underside of the wrist.

It was just a peck, but Hajime seemed to think better of it and tried again—motions slow and relaxed, this time, as he parted his lips and placed a trail of soft kisses leading to the back of Tooru's hand. 

Hajime lingered for a few breaths before leaning across Tooru's lap to reach his other hand, this time only lifting it slightly before mirroring the kisses from before. "IV," he mumbled, idly wondering if a certain somebody would start complaining about being treated like a child again. He smiled, lips now making their way up cold, trembling fingers.

When he finally pulled away, Tooru was sitting with his eyes closed, taking long, shuddering breaths.

"Look at me?" Hajime asked.

Tooru did, and Hajime couldn't think of any sight more beautiful. He brushed some of Tooru's hair out of his eyes before trailing his fingers back to tangle in that soft, chestnut brown hair.

Hajime leaned in until their foreheads touched, then whispered like he was telling the world's most precious secret. "I can see it in your eyes and feel it in your hands. You belong on the court, Oikawa Tooru. No matter what happens, as long as you love volleyball. So don't give up on everything now, not when there's still a chance for you to have anything you want."

Tooru felt something that was half gasp and half sob catch in his throat. He could still sense a ghost of those kisses on his hands, sensations still enveloping his hands in warmth and affection. 

"Hajime," he whispered.

"T-Tooru?"

They felt their names glide across each other's lips, their breaths mingling in the ever-diminishing space between them. _It's hard to focus_ , Tooru thought. _So hard to think—_

 _No._ Tooru pulled back. _I can't. Not until..._

Tooru couldn't help craving proximity and touch as soon as they parted, even when they were still less than an arm's length away from each other. But he needed the answer to a single question. A simple yes or no that was the culmination of every declaration the two of them had ever made to pull each other out of the darkness. Something he'd been asking for all this time without the right words, dressed in ambitions and desires proclaimed with forced bravado in order to stir up even a trace of confidence in himself.

_We will rule the court._

_Because we are going to win._

_Because there's a chance of finding perfect trust._

_We'll make them all remember our names._

_You're the person who supports me._

_Please let me believe in you._

Though maybe, hopefully, Hajime had already given him a response? Every phone call, every visit... still, as much as he didn't want to admit it, Tooru needed something concrete and sure and strong. So if he was finally going to ask with the words that needed to be said, he had to see Hajime's face and read his reaction—to see if the answer was laced with anything like pity or obligation.

"No matter what decision I make, no matter what happens. Will you stay with me? Will you stay until..." Tooru squeezed his eyes shut in frustration, turning away hold back the tears that had been filling him to the brim and now threatened to overflow. "I don't—I don't know how to finish that sentence, or maybe I just can't—"

Hajime shook his head in exasperation, found Tooru's hand and gently intertwined their fingers, then waited patiently.

When Tooru opened his eyes again, he saw Hajime with his brows slightly furrowed, thinking hard about what to say. The look on his face was without a doubt, earnest and true. Tooru was still a little afraid of his answer but felt a little silly for doubting his sincerity.

 _Earnest and true._ _Really, for Iwaizumi Hajime, could it be any other way?_

Hajime sat up on his knees, turning himself on the bed so that they faced each other. Tooru closed his eyes and felt comfort seep into his bones when Hajime's arms wrapped around him. He buried his face in Hajime's chest, grasping a fistful of shirt to steady himself, and decidedly did not burst into tears until he felt those arms pulling him even closer, holding him tight, and heard these words:

"And you think _I_ don't listen. You don't need the 'until,' idiot. Didn't I just tell you? No matter what happens, I'm always gonna be by your side."

 


	13. Resonance (the six of us)

The next few weeks were busier than ever for the Seijoh volleyball team as they prepared for their first practice match of the year. The starting players pushed hard at every practice, hoping to redeem themselves with a decisive victory after last year's disappointing first-round loss at the Spring High prelims. Yahaba noticed that even Kindaichi was fired up for this match, getting competitive with the third year middle blockers. Even the usually docile first year had a savage look in his eyes whenever someone talked about their opponent and their setter, Kageyama Tobio.

Iwaizumi actually managed to get Kyoutani to come to practice by calling him out on the flaws in his serving technique, but getting him to actually participate was another story. While Iwaizumi was hard at work there, Yahaba went to ask for a few more courts for their open practice today.

"So, um, Shimomura-san. Shimomura-san? Excuse me?"

"..."

"Sorry to bother you—"

"What do you want? You're a little too scrawny for basketball, kid." The third-year captain of the boys' basketball team towered over Yahaba with a menacing scowl.

"No, uh, we were wondering if we could use courts 3 and 4 in the basketball gym today? For our team's free practice? We have a match coming up soon."

"Your team? Who are you?"

"Yahaba Shigeru. I'm vice captain? Of the volleyball team?"

"Um. No. We might need those later."

"Could we perhaps use them now, while your team is using the weight room?"

"Nah."

"We'll clear out as soon as you need the courts."

"Too much trouble. What if your guys steal stuff from my guys?"

Yahaba turned bright red. "But no one on the volleyball team—"

"Nah. Too risky. If that's it, then see ya." Shimomura left, leaving Yahaba alone and at a total loss.

Watari had followed Yahaba here to spy on him, determined to figure out why his friend had been such a lame vice-captain lately—since training camp, really. But he couldn't stand it any more. The libero stormed towards Yahaba, grabbed his arm without saying a word, and dragged him back towards the volleyball gym.

They stopped just outside the door. "What is _wrong_ with you? You just let that guy walk all over you! You pretty much just let _me_ walk all over you too!" Watari yelled. "This is all backwards. How'd you go from putting Iwaizumi-san and Oikawa-san in time out like they were kindergartners to—to—whatever _that_ was with the basketball guy?!"

Yahaba looked at his feet and mumbled. Watari only caught bits and pieces: "... have to be polite... representing..."

"Okay, so represent our team by not letting others push you around!" Watari argued. "And you've been weird at practice too, all apologetic and stuff. Did you know that you spent a grand total of 4 minutes and 32 seconds saying sorry and bowing to people at practice yesterday?"

Watari was hoping for a good, Yahaba-like reaction to him wasting valuable practice time running a timer on the vice-captain's apologies. Like a sarcastic comment, maybe, or even just that look he had when he was about to boil over. Instead, Yahaba just frowned.

Watari sighed _. I'm not getting through to him. Need a different strate—_

 _Whoa!_  Watari almost doubled over in surprise when Kunimi appeared. _Where did he come from—_

"Senpai, your face gets all weird when you try to be someone you're not." said Kunimi, who looked like he'd been napping on the lawn. "You look kind of, hm, cheesy. Like a really tacky guy."

 _Hellooo, different strategy,_ thought Watari. He had thought getting the real Yahaba back would take a lot of effort, but thanks to Kunimi's perfect timing ( _and ninja assassin skills... ?)_ it was now two against one. Plus, Watari liked to exaggerate and bend the truth a _lot_  ( _well, it makes my stories more interesting)_  and Yahaba knew it.But now. Having a quiet, unfamiliar underclassman speak up and point out the same things would definitely give Yahaba a solid wake-up call. 

"If you think you have to be some kind of cool, mature leader," said Kunimi, "you don't. It's boring."

Watari silently cheered Kunimi on. _Just onnnne more push!_

"Oikawa-san is a dork and tells bad jokes, but that's who he is," the first year stated, and Watari thought he saw the faintest smile on his face, but it was gone in a flash. "And people still like him," Kunimi added, then stared blankly at Yahaba. 

The setter was unnerved, and Watari could tell.  _Nice. Gotta buy this first year a meat bun later._  

"So when Oikawa-san gets serious," said Watari, trying to drive the point home, "We know he's being himself then, too. The whole team trusts that everything he says is something he truly believes. The coaches, too. Look, when we were looking for a new vice-captain, we voted for the salty as fuck version of you because you always knew when to be chill and when to scare us shitless. I mean seriously, have you _seen_ your murder face?"

"Watari..." Yahaba said, with a dangerous flicker in his eyes.

The libero gulped. Maybe he went too far.

Yahaba sighed. "Your compliments suck. God. You would've been better off working on _that_ during practice than stalking me with a timer. No wonder you can't get a date."

Watari smirked. _Finally._

"Uh, where'd Kunimi go? Wasn't he just here?" asked Yahaba.

Watari took a peek inside the gym. "Whoa. _All_ of the first years are gone," he said nervously. _Crap. Terrible timing. I need Yahaba to feel good about being vice-captain, not worry about losing a bunch of—_

"Hey Yahaba, hey Watari." It was Motomu. "I'm moving the first-years' drills to gym two. Kunimi said you made the basketball team let us use all of their courts for the next hour! I don't know what you did, that Shimomura can be a real asshole _and_ he's fucking enormous... but good goin', Mom! Thanks!" He waved goodbye and pushed a ball cart to the other building.

Yahaba and Watari looked at each other.

"It had to be Kunimi, right?" Watari asked. "What did he do, fall asleep on the basketball captain?" He was even more impressed (and a little creeped out) by the first year, now. 

"Definitely wasn't me," Yahaba muttered, and both boys laughed. And then Yahaba seemed to realize something "Did he just call me _Mom_?"

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. Motomu-san doesn't know what he's talking about," Watari assured him, while thinking, _Because it's supposed to be either Grandma or Vice-Mom._

"Huh. Well, somehow, I think we should all stay on Kunimi's good side," Yahaba replied.

 

* * *

 

For more pre-match preparation, Coach Irihata had once again invited a group of Seijoh OBs to play a few sets with the starting players. Yahaba was nervous about being involved this year, but he was more concerned about Kyoutani. It would be the first time anyone on the team would see the spiker in a match situation.

"How do you think it's gonna go?" asked Yahaba.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Personally, I'm calling today good if I don't fall on my ass," Iwaizumi replied.

Yahaba sighed. _Iwaizumi-san... aren't your standards a little low?_

It was a thought Yahaba had to retract after only five or six plays.

Unfortunately for Iwaizumi, even staying on his feet was a tall order when Kyoutani was involved. The second-year was overly aggressive at the net, going for tosses clearly meant for another spiker.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa both had an exceptionally keen sense of the court around them, so they were able to avoid direct impact. Kindaichi simply ran away from all spikes, which was probably best for him but not so great for the team. Almost everyone was basically dodging tosses.

Except Iwaizumi, who seemed incredibly determined to keep playing as if everything was normal. He was more solidly built than Kyoutani, so he'd been able to land on his feet through Kyoutani's body checks.

But, as the match progressed, it looked like Kyoutani started only going after tosses meant for the captain. Yahaba desperately hoped that the coaches would step in, but they were nowhere in sight. Calling a time out might draw too much attention to Kyoutani and make him defensive and even more aggressive. Or, he'd run off again, and all of the captain's efforts would've been for nothing.

The only other thing Yahaba could think of was to send very slow and high tosses, hoping Iwaizumi would take the extra time to adjust or get out of the way, but it wasn't enough. The next collision sent the captain flying to the floor with the sickening sound of skull hitting solid wood.

There were already a few times during this set when Hanamaki and Kindaichi had to physically restrain Matsukawa from starting a fistfight with Kyoutani, but now all three of them were advancing on the second-year and ready to kill. Watari dashed past all of them with the first aid kit, waving Kunimi over to help examine the captain.

Yahaba planted himself in between Kyoutani and his to-be-attackers and felt his heart try to jump out of his throat, but thankfully both coaches had arrived. Watari had insisted that Iwaizumi stay down until the coaches got a chance to look at him, but after the they gave the okay it seemed like Iwaizumi had no trouble standing unassisted. Still, everyone agreed on a short break so that the school nurse could confirm his condition.

When Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Kindaichi went to check on the captain, Yahaba immediately charged at Kyoutani, shoving the spiker into the far net post.

"Look," Yahaba spat. "I don't know what you're trying to pull here, but if you get in anyone's way again I will make sure you never set foot in this gym after today."

"And," he continued, yanking Kyoutani forward by the collar of his t-shirt with a sharp jerk, "if you hurt Iwaizumi-san again, I will fucking _end_ you."

Yahaba punctuated the threat by shoving Kyoutani back and glaring at him with white hot, unadulterated fury. He found himself wishing the net posts weren't padded because the sound of bone hitting metal would be so much more satisfying. They had some kind of staring match, and soon Kyoutani whipped his head to the side, looking away from Yahaba with a scowl.

"The strongest player should get the most tosses," he muttered.

 _The strongest should... Hold on._  Yahaba felt some of the fight fizzle out of him. _There's a reason? A stupid one, but maybe he's not just a violent asshole?_ "God. Ugh. Fine. I don't really care what your philosophy is. But don't try to, I don't know, assert dominance or whatever this is during a goddamn match. Figure out how to do it without injuring anybody."

"But the setter has to see who the strongest player is," Kyoutani sulked.

Yahaba felt a sudden and compelling urge to start bashing his own head into the post when he realized that this was some kind of _may the best knight win the fair maiden's hand_ bullshit. There were SO many things wrong with that. "Are you fucking serious _oh wait of course you are_ , you almost sent the captain to the emergency room. God, what is wrong with... I'll figure something out to settle all this, so _cool it_. I'm not joking about getting you kicked off the team if you keep this up."

Kyoutani grunted. Yahaba hoped that was a yes.

 

* * *

 

_Huh. He really kept his word. Er, grunt._

But Yahaba knew that peace wouldn't last if Kyoutani didn't get satisfaction... which made him feel even worse for not coming up with any good ideas. Watari was always the one coming up with oddball solutions. After all, he was the guy who stopped being a setter just to start as a first year at Seijoh. But the libero already left for the day. Yahaba didn't want to bother Iwaizumi with this, not when the captain probably still had a raging headache, but he was out of options. He grabbed Iwaizumi and filled him in, hoping that brainstorming together would be more effective.

"Oh," said the captain. "That's what this was? Easy. Arm wrestle. Oi, Kyoutani!"

Yahaba narrowed his eyes. "Iwaizumi-san, you don't actually think something as _basic_ as  _arm wrestling's_ gonna be enough—"

"Arm wrestle," agreed Kyoutani.

The vice-captain massaged his temples while trying to keep his frustration in check. He was probably going to end up with the raging headache, not Iwazumi. He'd been trying to come up with some elaborate volleyball drill sequence for the two spikers that would cover all possible traits a play should have.

_But apparently slamming each other's arms onto a table is just fine._

It was certainly non-violent, though by the looks of it Kyoutani was both persistent _and_ a sore loser. Iwaizumi won easily, but Kyoutani then insisted on making it best-out-of-3. Soon, the arm wrestling showdown had very quickly escalated from best-of-3 to best-of-5 to...

"Stop! Jesus fucking Christ, contest over. Can we all agree on the results here?" Yahaba had to draw the line at best-of-17. 

Kyoutani stood abruptly, nodded his head at Yahaba and Iwaizumi, the left the gym.

"Ughhh. Guess this is what 'more brawn than brains' means," Yahaba mumbled to himself.

Iwaizumi laughed, making Yahaba jump and spout frantic apologies.

"No, it's fine, don't worry about it," said the captain, chuckling. "You just reminded me of something, that's all. I met Oikawa when he hit me in the face with a jump serve. He felt guilty for all of two seconds before telling me I was 'brawny and hardheaded' enough to not get injured. While I was sitting right in front of him with a nosebleed." 

Iwaizumi sighed fondly. 

 _Damn, he's got it baaad,_ thought Yahaba, noticing the striking similarity between the captain and his little sister when she obsessively googled pictures of her favorite idols; she did this with such devotion that she'd scroll through images for hours on end.

The captain was probably just as fun to tease, then.

"Senpai," interrupted Yahaba, "you and Oikawa-san have a very interesting way of expressing your deep, deep love for each other." He laughed at the horrorstruck expression on Iwaizumi's face, which twisted into a weird mix of denial, embarrassment, and surprise at being caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Plus, Oikawa-san really wasn't wrong, I mean look at today! He seems kind of down lately so I'll go tell him that right now _byeee!_ " Yahaba was already running for dear life, laughing gleefully all the way to the locker room before the captain could find a ball to throw at his head. 

 

* * *

 

Now that the Karasuno match was just a week away, Iwaizumi suddenly had a lot more time and energy during practice. He pushed everyone to their limits every day; Yahaba noticed that he was putting the team through the same exercises Oikawa used when he felt optimistic and way overestimated his team's athletic ability. The captain had gotten incredibly observant and critical too, and again Yahaba suspected Oikawa had a hand in this. He was happy that Oikawa still took the time and effort to help the team even in this indirect way...

_... but in the end, that makes all of our practices stupid exhausting._

"All right, I think we're looking pretty good. Five more from each of you and then we can go!" announced Yahaba.

Watari, who'd been throwing balls for Yahaba to toss, looked at him curiously. "Don't we still have 20 minutes before the first bell?"

"Yeah, but someone keeps buying all the curry bread first thing in the morning and I really want some," said Yahaba. "Iwaizumi-san's gonna be in the other gym until the last minute of practice anyway, so it's not like he'll notice."

The libero grinned. _Normal Yahaba is the best._

Motomu was first in line. "B quick!" shouted Yahaba. The middle blocker ran up and made the spike.

Hanamaki. "B!"

Kunimi.

 _Ooh, he's spacing out._ "A! Aha, gotch—"

_BAM._

He got to the toss with the fastest run-up Yahaba had ever seen on this team. The spike itself looked effortless, but the speed and power rivaled some of Hanamaki's best hits.

Before anyone knew it, Kunimi was already calling, "Next, please!" and dashing back to the head of the line. All of this blew everyone away.

Everyone except Kindaichi. The tilt of his chin and the smirk that topped it gave him a distinct air of proud superiority in support of his friend and long-time teammate—kind of like a smug parent on sports day who acted like their kid was the best, certain that any other opinion was just plain silly.

"Uh." said Yahaba, glancing at Kindaichi to see if he was annoyed at his friend butting in line. Kindaichi grinned and flapped his hands in a shooing, "go-on" gesture.

"Yahaba-san, four more tosses, please," said Kunimi. He was bouncing on his toes, ready to spring into action.

"Umm, yeah. Give me a sec. Strategy," said Yahaba, before turning his back to the group and hissing at Watari. "Hey! Stop laughing and tell me what the hell is going on!"

"This guy is _amazing_ ," said Watari, wiping a tear away, "You said we could leave after hitting five spikes. He's motivated now. And being, being—" Watari snorted, holding back more laughter, "— _efficient_."

The libero lost it again when he saw Yahaba's expression. He really loved it when his friend, the quiet-and-polite honors student, lost his composure—it was like watching a fluffy bunny puff up in indignation.

(But Watari knew that picking on Yahaba always carried this disclaimer: it is important to note that continuing to provoke said fluffy bunny comes with the risk of triggering the fearsome, extremely uncute Grandma mode. The exact nature of Yahaba's reprimands and punishments in this state are still shrouded in mystery, because those who had endured it would never tell what exactly the vice-captain said or did to them.)

Yahaba sighed. "Jeez. Fine by me, I guess, if no one else in line minds. But," he said, flashing a look so like the old captain's that Watari shivered a little, "our friend Kunimi just showed his hand." 

 

* * *

   
Hajime woke up on Saturday morning feeling well-rested and refreshed. It'd been their last full week of practice before the match with Karasuno, and it was an exhausting one. But he was proud of the progress they'd made since training camp in March, and the team was looking forward to starting their season with a win this year. Plus, with Tooru's help over the phone last night, he was even feeling pretty good about his history exam on Monday. 

Hajime's parents usually slept in on Saturdays, leaving him to enjoy a quiet morning alone, maybe while listening to some music or tidying up the living room and thinking about what to make for breakfast.

But there was a _slight_ change of plans on this particular Saturday.

First, a single thought pushed everything else out of his brain as soon the living room came into view: I _should be wearing pants but I'm not._

Then, there was the scene before him: a full spread of fruit, tea, coffee, juice, muffins, scones, along with two of his favorite people in the world. The same people who happened to love teasing the crap out of Hajime. _Of course_ he'd be half dressed and half asleep when the three of them were in the same room for the first time ever.

"Hajime," said his mom, "What exactly is your relationship with this charming and delightful young man?"

"Morning, Iwa-chan! Croissant?" asked Tooru, holding one up to him on a plate.

 

* * *

  
Hajime knew there was no stopping his mom when she was like this.  

"—so like I was saying, Tooru-kun, this is all _very_  interesting, because it sounds like _my own son_ has been going to my _favorite_ bakery at least once a week over the past _six months_ without _ever_ bringing any dessert home, and _yet!"_ she exclaimed dramatically, turning to Hajime and brandishing a scone at him, "This boy who is _obviously_   _much_ too good for you just brought me all of this _including_ danishes with my favorite type of fruit filling."

"Which I bet you don't even know," she sniffed.

Hajime rolled his eyes. He knew this as well as he knew his own name. "Diced apple with raisins, cinnamon, ginger, a tiny bit of cardamom," he grumbled. "No nutmeg unless it's winter."

"Ooh, good answer, Iwa-chan!" Tooru exclaimed. "Here, have some coffee."

"Thanks." Hajime really did need a huge dose of caffeine right now, and he was honestly thrilled that Tooru must've been feeling better if he was up and running and most importantly out of _that damn hospital_. Plus, he seemed content with just offering Hajime food and listening to everything with interest. But, for pride's sake, Hajime managed to make at least a token attempt at looking angry and annoyed. 

Tooru winked. "It's a pretty strong brew. I thought you might need one!"

Hajime smiled. "Yeah, actually. Thanks. It's good."

"Mm, you're welcome, Iwa-chan. I'm drinking the same thing, since we were up so late last night~"

Hajime choked on his coffee. He pointedly did not look at his mother.

"Iwa-chan," Tooru said as if scolding a small child, actually wagging his finger for dramatic effect. "You should really be telling Nacchan these things. She's like, the second nicest mom in the world and she's worried about you!" He turned to Hajime's mom with a shy smile. "Sorry, my mom's still the best."

"Telling who— ... Na— N— you just—?!" Hajime stuggled to string more than two words together at a time. 

"It's like 'Iwa-chan,' Iwa-chan. 'Natsu-san' is so much harder to say, and I think Nacchan suits her. It's cute."

Hajime's mom ruffled Tooru's hair. "Such a sweet boy." She then turned to her son with a glare.

"Well, Tooru-kun says you two have something to do, which _of course_ I had to hear from him and not you—"

Hajime wanted to scream _. I'm hearing about this for the first time right now!_

"So for his sake I'll leave you two alone and go for a walk. Don't do anything that would wake your father up, Hajime—"

"Mom, what,  _stop_ —"

"— _and_ you should really think about wearing pants if you're trying to impress a boy," she suggested.

_AHHHHHHHHHH_

"Tooru-kun, please thank your parents for me, everything was so good! Come say hi any time, okay? My husband would love to meet you."

"I will! This was so much fun, thank you for having me," said Tooru.

Hajime squeezed his eyes shut with dread as his mom rounded on him with that glare again. He didn't know if he could take any more teasing or surprises. But when he felt a light tap on his nose, he opened his eyes to see his mom beaming at him with a glowing smile. "I like him almost as much as he likes you. Have fun today," she whispered, and kissed him on the cheek.

 _Well. Maybe surprises aren't really that bad..._  

 

* * *

 

"But last night you said your parents would be happy to meet me!" Tooru whined, rubbing his head. Hajime had settled on giving Tooru a solid flick on the forehead as punishment before they left the house.

"Yeah," said Hajime, "Like, at some point! Not 'in the next 6 hours'!"

Tooru giggled.

"Where are we going, anyway?" Hajime asked. It seemed like they were just wandering around his neighborhood.

"You tell me, Iwa-chan."

"Haah? You're the one coming to my house and bribing my mom with pastries, saying we had to do—"

"I was not bribing her! Just showering her with my affection."

Hajime groaned. "So what are we doing?"

Tooru looked up at the sky, seeming as relaxed as can be. "I don't know what _you're_ doing, Iwa-chan, but I'm waiting for you to ask me out on a date."

"What?!" Hajime froze mid-step, almost losing his balance.

Tooru stopped too and looked at him owlishly.

"It would be rude not to, Iwa-chan. Since you confessed to me at camp and all. Then at least one other time."

"Oi, I did _not_ —"

"Hm? So we're not going on a date, then," Tooru goaded. 

"... I didn't say that," Hajime mumbled, looking away. 

"Well, I'll wait. No rush," said Tooru, smiling serenely.

Now that all the cards were out on the table ( _again_ ) and he was feeling incredibly exposed ( _again_ ), Hajime was actually starting to calm down and regain composure. He took the opportunity to take a closer look at Tooru. There were some suspicious details he noticed earlier this morning, but at the time, being embarrassed enough to want to jump out a window took priority.

Tooru was leaning back against a tall fence, eyes closed, chin raised slightly so that more of his face would be in the sunlight.

_He's thin. Really thin. And—_

Tooru's skin had taken on a slightly ashen tone, not so noticeable indoors but obvious in the daylight. He was still a lovely sight, would probably always be to Hajime, but not in the way he was in the park last year. Then, Tooru had glowed with energy, pink lips matching the flush in his cheeks, arms and legs ready to run and jump and toss and spike.

The Tooru now... he was a gentle but cold breeze, too ethereal and harsh. A masterpiece painting, beautiful and timeless but covered in craquelure, the rich layers of paint too brittle and ready to break.

What was just as unsettling was this entire morning. It all felt too... arranged. Pre-planned. _Why did you come to my house instead of telling me where to go? Why did you come prepared to meet my mom?_

"Well?" Tooru asked languidly, opening his eyes and giving Hajime a crooked grin.

"MILKSHAKES!" Hajime shouted.

And before Tooru could say a word, Hajime had seized his wrist and started dragging him towards the shopping district.

It was what he saw in Tooru's eyes that threw Hajime into overdrive, yelling the first thing that came to mind and taking off. Because he needed to hide the look on his face from Tooru at all costs, until the heavy, sinking sense of dread went away.  

_Even the dim glow of an ember can burst back into flame. Somehow, Tooru had made that happen, time and time again._

_But it'll only take a splash of water to put out the light._

 

* * *

 

 "Tooru, your house is this way." Hajime said, though he could barely see down the street with the pile of books and video games in his arms.

"Oh, this is for my hospital room."

"Wait, you're going back? On the same day they let you go?"

"Well, eheheh..."

"Tooru..." Hajime tried to look menacing, but he didn't think his face would let him aim that kind of expression at Tooru. Still, Tooru looked incredibly guilty. His head was lowered, and he was twirling a piece of his own hair around his finger. 

 _His hair's getting long,_  thought Hajime.

"They didn't really? So I'm going back? _Please don't throw my books at me they're brand new_ —" Tooru blurted, covering his head with his arms. But Hajime hadn't moved.

"Iwa-chan?" said Tooru, peeking at him  from the space between his arms.

Hajime said nothing. He took off towards the hospital, as quickly as he could without dropping anything, Tooru trailing behind.

"Iwa-chan, please don't be mad."

"'m not."

"Iwa-chan..."

"I'm just hurrying so that we can eat dinner. I can't survive on ice cream and cake like you." 

Tooru sniffled. "Thanks, Iwa-chan," and fell in step next to Hajime.

When Hajime managed to push that awful, persistent anxiety away at last, he wanted to ask  _is everything okay?_ But he knew Tooru would just say yes, he always said yes, before hiding another thought or feeling somewhere no one but himself could reach. Just like whatever he was hiding today.

What he asked instead, was, "Why did you come to my house today?"

"To come see you."

"But we see each other every day... ?"

"To meet your mom."

"Why?"

"You said it would be okay. Too bad your dad wasn't awake, what does he do on Sundays? I could—"

"Tooru, what are you doing?"

"Did you know that I've never asked anybody out? I didn't want to break my streak, you know, so I'm glad you asked me first like everyone else... Hah, does it count if I made you do it?" Tooru's laugh was harsh, and Hajime shuddered.

"The only thing you 'made' me do was spit out my coffee this morning and my mom is never gonna let that go so _thanks,"_ Hajime said flatly.

Tooru giggled. "You'll remember this, right? Today?" 

 _He looks so calm,_ thought Hajime.

"Like you'd let me forget."

"Iwa-chan..."

"Of course I'll remember. Idiot."

Tooru smiled and took a seat on one of the benches outside the hospital. Hajime put everything down and joined him.

"It's so dark," said Tooru, tilting his head back and gazing up at the sky.

"Yeah, it's been cloudy."

"I wish I could just reach up and push the clouds away." Tooru's voice was sweet, innocent, a little wistful. Like a child who only just learned that it wasn't possible, even though his imagination had always said he could.

"I wish I could do it for you," said Hajime. His throat was dry; it was barely more than a whisper. He wondered how young Tooru had been when "can't" and "won't be able to" dominated his every move; felt sharp pangs of regret and loss whenever he thought _why didn't the universe let me find him sooner?_

When secrets are bottled up too long, they turn into the worst type of demons. The ones who only lurk in darkness but are still completely overwhelming, somehow. Hajime knew this well.

But he couldn't do anything about those hidden in Tooru's mind. 

_That doesn't mean I'm not gonna do anything to help._

"You think you can get them to let you out for another day? Next week?"

"Why, Iwa-chan, planning our next date already?" Tooru said with a coy smile.

"Kinda, yeah."

Tooru blushed, but then immediately went pale. "I, um... today was a good day. Extra good. Normally I can't actually walk this much..." He trailed off.

"That's fine, we'll take it easy. And you'll be sitting for most of it." Hajime grinned. "You're gonna come see us beat Karasuno."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The previous chapter, this one, and the next all used to be a single chapter until I realized that it alone was equal to the length of 4 or 5 of the other chapters. So there will be definitely be more than 15 chapters!
> 
> The weird, cheesy look Kunimi refers to outside the gym is Yahaba's try-to-flirt-with-Yachi face.


	14. Goodbye, hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You're talking to the me who isn't captain, who isn't a volleyball player, who can't walk for more than 20 minutes without collapsing... I'm not me anymore, Iwa-chan, and this me doesn't fight._
> 
> _But Tooru didn't say any of this out loud. He could still pretend, today._

They used to do this before every match, sitting on the roof with popsicles in the summer or cans of coffee in the winter. Somehow, it never rained on any of the match days they'd had together.

It was pouring today.

"But four is such an unlucky number!" Tooru's voice echoed in the stairwell where they took shelter with their soda-flavored popsicles.

"Hey, you're the one who made me number four! ... as an afterthought, too." Hajime was embarrassed that he tacked that on at the end. So many months ago and he was still a little annoyed that Issei and Hiro got to be two and three.

"Well, now you're the captain, so." Tooru said with finality. He reached into his bag and threw something soft at Hajime.

"Oi! What th—" Hajime pulled the fabric off his face and threw it right back. He knew exactly what it was without even looking. "For the last time, I'm not wearing it!"

"Why not!?"

Hajime flinched. Tooru's protest had much more bite than he'd expected. But there was no reason to bite back. "It's yours. And if I took it now, it'll be a pain to switch numbers once you come back."

Tooru leaned back and let his head thunk against the concrete wall. "Why are you always so sure that'll happen?" he asked the ceiling.

"Because you're you," said Hajime.

What was Tooru supposed to do when he talked like that? There was so much—too much confidence and pride in Hajime's voice, and Tooru hated and adored him for it. It still touched his heart, words like these, but it was also a painful reminder of who he wasn't any more.

 _You're talking to the me who isn't captain, who isn't a volleyball player, who can't walk for more than 20 minutes without collapsing... I'm not me anymore, Iwa-chan, and this me doesn't fight._ But Tooru didn't say any of this out loud. He could still pretend, today.

 

* * *

 

Hajime helped Tooru find a seat up in the stands, on the away team's side. He didn't really understand why Tooru didn't want the team to know he was here but didn't press for details. There was something more important to accomplish today, anyway.

At last, they parted ways, but Hajime couldn't help looking back at Tooru one more time to make sure everything was all right. And there was Tooru standing in the aisle, frozen in place.

Hajime rushed over, immediately wrapping an arm around him in case he was about to lose consciousness or collapse. "Tooru. Hey. Are you okay?"  
  
"Iwa-chan," said Tooru, with a flash of mischief. "I think I found a good seat! Go down two steps and look down that row."

"Um, okay?" What, did Hajime need to scout ahead or something? _He can just ask if he needs help getting through the seats..._

From a distance, it looked like a mass of tangled legs with matching kneepads and white shorts at the far end of the row. A closer look revealed two people kissing quietly but apparently with plenty of enthusiasm, practice jersey number 2 pinning someone else down on the floor. That someone else's hands were... everywhere.

"Holy mother of _what the fuck_ —I'm sorry! Ahh! Sorry! Bye!" Hajime tugged on Tooru's wrist, not even trying to hide the fact that his face was probably burning scarlet red. "Come on," he hissed, "Let's go somewhere else!"

"Oooh," Tooru cooed. "How'd it finally happen?" he asked the arms and legs.

"Let's gooo!" Hajime almost whined in desperation. He didn't want to make Tooru lose his balance, but he also wanted to get the hell out. Tooru, cooperative as always, pried Hajime's hand from his wrist with surprising strength and made his way down the row where all of _that_ was happening.

Hajime couldn't help looking, though, because they ( _my two best friends good lord_ ) had managed to go from lying down to sitting without detaching their mouths from each other and he kind of maybe wanted to know how.

And then Hiro held up four fingers, drew a circle in the air with his arm, and...

 _Those are referee hand signals,_ Hajime realized. _Four hits. Illegal substitution. Delay warning. Change of court. Ball in-bounds. Point scored._

"Seriously? Good job, Mattsun!" exclaimed Tooru. Issei waved a thumbs-up in Tooru and Hajime's general direction, acknowledging Tooru's compliment but still not tearing himself away from Hiro. At all. Hajime squirmed.

"Well, love to chat, but Iwa-chan is being so jumpy! I think he needs help going to the bathroom—"

"T-Oikawa." Hajime warned through gritted teeth.

"Keep those bite marks where we can't see them, okay?" Tooru waved goodbye, not that anyone could see him, and Hajime shuddered at the fact that Tooru sounded like he could've been saying  _"Let's hit them with more quicks this set, okay?"_ during a match.

"Ah, love," Tooru sighed happily, when he settled in a new seat.

Hajime was going to regret asking, but he had to know... "What did you mean, 'Good job Mattsun'?"

"From what Makki said," replied Tooru, looking up at Hajime.

"What? When did he say anything?"

"We were both there! Weren't you watching? Makki felt like he'd gone after Mattsun one too many times, it seemed like he shouldn't be trying because Mattsun was still in love with you. So Makki stopped, but just when he thought he had to move on, Mattsun took over and confessed to Makki instead. You should listen to your friends more carefully, Iwa-chan."

Before Hajime could reply, Tooru pointed down at the court. "Hey, Coach-chan's looking pretty angry~! Get a move on, Captain!"

"You're the one who took forever—oh, whatever," Hajime sighed. Before he left, he took a few moments to make sure Tooru was comfortable in his seat—

"Seriously, Iwa-chan, I don't even need to ask if you're my mom because you are. Go!"

 

* * *

 

Tooru looked down at the court, and of course the first person he accidentally made eye contact with was Kageyama Tobio. The two of them stared, Tooru too stunned to move a muscle until the younger setter made a sour grimace and turned away.

_Well, at least Tobio-chan will always hate me, no matter who I am. How reassuring._

"Oikawa!" A familiar's man's voice called from the stairs. "It's good to see you."

"Coach-san! What are you doing up here?" Inwardly, Tooru groaned. What, was he wearing flashing lights today or something?

"Telling you to come sit on the bench. If you want to. I think the team would be very happy to see you there. Mizoguchi-kun and I wouldn't mind hearing your opinions during the match, either. Here's the data we have on Karasuno," said Coach Irihata, handing Tooru a notebook.

"Thanks, Coach." He took it gratefully. "But—"

 _I don't think I can be down there and not play. It'll be like Spring High all over again._  
_I'm not part of the team any more._  
_I'm just here to watch the guys one last time._

"—I'm feeling a little tired. And it's a good view from here. I can still give you my observations after the match, if you'd like."

"Yes, I'd appreciate that. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me. Or I'm sure Iwaizumi wouldn't mind—"

" _Coach._ Sorry to interrupt, but what on earth is Coach-chan doing?!"

At least the head coach seemed as surprised as Tooru. Coach Mizoguchi was apparently speed-walking backwards towards the two of them, dragging a very harassed looking Kindaichi by both arms.

"Mizoguchi-kun! The steps!" warned Coach Irihata, when the assistant coach had reached the aisle leading down to Tooru's row. Coach Mizoguchi stopped and turned, gave Coach Irihata a firm nod, then picked Kindaichi up by his armpits and walked down the steps. The first year wasn't even struggling now. Bizarrely, Tooru thought of the opening to Lion King, if your imagination allowed a six foot tall teenage boy to take Simba's place.

"You know, Oikawa," said Coach Mizoguchi casually after he'd just deposited Kindaichi in front of Tooru. "I'm usually dragging players to the court, not away. Don't let your team make this a habit, all right?"

"Coach-chan, what—"

"Newbie here kept looking up at the stands and Iwaizumi accidentally spiked a ball into the side of his head. So now the captain's an apologetic mess and we do _not_ want any of his damn habits to come back. And _this_ guy is gonna be a danger to himself until he came and talked to you," Coach Mizoguchi explained. Without even looking away from Tooru, he grabbed the back of the first year's jersey as he tried to escape. "Hurry it up, you two, Iwaizumi probably needs proof that Kindaichi's alive."

Tooru peeked down at the court. _Oh, Iwa-chan._ He was huddled up on a bench, legs pulled into his chest, while Mattsun gently patted him on the back and Makki slapped him with a towel.

"Um, uh—" Kindaichi stammered. "I... thank you for coming today!" He shouted, dropping into a quick bow. Tooru started, eyes wide in surprise, then broke into a small but genuine smile.

"Kindaichi?"

"YES!" He yelled, then hunched his shoulders sheepishly. A few of the Karasuno players looked up in their direction.

Tooru held back a snicker. It was important for the first-year to hear this and take it seriously.

"I wonder," Tooru said thoughtfully, "if you and Kunimi could show Tobio-chan how much he wasted your talent at Kitaichi."

He really loved seeing this look on his teammates' faces, a fierce mix of confidence and pride.

"Yes! Captain!" Kindaichi gave another quick bow then sprinted back down the stairs.

Tooru turned back towards the court for all of three seconds when a soft voice called, "Oikawa-san?" 

Tooru rolled his eyes. _Does everyone know I'm here?_ But he greeted his next visitor with a wide grin and meant it. It really was good to see Yahaba, even if all Tooru could do was offer some reassurance or advice. He thought about Yahaba's usual pre-match jitters, trying to think of the best way to calm and encourage the younger setter.

Yahaba spoke up, first. "Oikawa-san," he said evenly, "I hope you watch closely today, because we're going to show you how far we've come thanks to everyone's hard work. Including yours."

He paused, then added, "I know some of Iwaizumi-san's ideas were a little too clever for him."

"Oh, such disrespect!" Tooru faked a dramatic swoon, partly to hide some of his excitement. For Yahaba to be like this... he had a feeling that his kouhai was about to make this match very interesting.

"Yahaba," said Tooru, unconsciously switching to that voice filled with all of the weight and significance and trust he used with his team before every match.

"Show me the team that you built."

 

* * *

 

Today's starters were:

#1 Sawamura (WS), captain  
#2 Tanaka (WS)  
#3 Ennoshita (WS)  
#4 Kageyama (S)  
#5 Hinata (MB)  
#6 Tsukishima (MB)

#4 Iwaizumi (WS), captain  
#2 Matsukawa (MB)  
#3 Hanamaki (WS)  
#5 Yahaba (S), vice-captain  
#6 Kindaichi (MB)  
#7 Kyoutani (WS)  
Watari (L)

Tooru looked back and forth between the roster and the court. He wasn't interested in player names—he'd already nicknamed all of them in his head, anyway—but a number caught his eye. Karasuno's number five... _Chibi-chan's a starter?_ He'd been watching the short player with fiery orange hair for the past few minutes and liked him instantly because he seemed to be so good at getting under Tobio's skin. He figured Chibi-chan just had the misfortune of being Tobio's classmate or something.

_And a middle blocker. He's shorter than Watari! Is he there for receives? No libero at Karasuno, so he probably defends the back zone while the ridiculously tall Glasses-kun is up front. Not a bad strategy._

_FWEET!_ The shrill whistle signaled the first serve of the match.

Mattsun's serve cut across the court, where Captain Crow moved to position himself perfectly for the receive. Tooru immediately snapped his head over to Tobio; he knew the setter would make his first move in a flash and didn't want to miss it.

"Uwahh!!"

 _Where's the ball?_ Tooru thought, and it looked like Tobio had the same question. The tiny middle blocker was stumbling in front of his captain and wincing as the ball flew far out of bounds. 

Tooru could hardly believe what he saw. _Well, so much for that theory._

"Nice, Ennoshita!" called the captain. Huh. Tooru hadn't even noticed the third wing spiker until now, but he made it to Chibi-chan's receive and passed it back to the court without giving Seijoh a chance ball.

"Got it!" his teammate Baldy-kun yelled.

 _Oh? Could this be a second-year ace?_ Tooru assumed that the captain's physical build and steady presence translated to "ace," but it was Baldy-kun who looked the part when he ran under the high arching pass and sprang up for a spike.

 _He's at least as good as Akao-san was. Fast, strong arm, good form. But sorry, Baldy-kun,_ Tooru thought, leaning back and smirking with satisfaction. _That's not nearly enough to break us._ Kindaichi and Hanamaki denied the Karasuno player's spike and took the very first point for Seijoh.

Despite several more mess-ups from Chibi-chan, Tooru had to give the little first-year some credit for facing all of Tobio's anger and frustration without losing any steam on the court. Of course, that didn't really help Karasuno take the lead. Not when Chibi-chan kept bumping into his teammates, not when Yahaba and Kyouken-chan were working together so smoothly, taking point after point until the score was 24-13, Seijoh's set point. A set point they won before the ball even crossed the net, when Chibi-chan served right into Tobio's head.

Tooru hummed. _Mmm, not a bad warm-up for Seijoh._

 

* * *

 

Hajime stared at Karasuno's number five after the first point of the second set ended with another error from him. The tiny player named Hinata was staring at his hand like he'd never whiffed a spike before.

_Why does Number 5 look so surprised that his setter shot the ball right past him? I'm sure Kageyama still does his old junior high tosses once in a while._

Hinata reminded Hajime of himself, back in elementary and middle school, when he'd jump right into Issei's side to tighten a block or get tangled up in the net every time he got a little too excited. Hajime had expected Kageyama to stop tossing to Hinata after a few missed plays, based on what he saw at Kitagawa Daiichi last year. But the setter was treating all of his teammates the same on the court, only giving "special treatment" to his fellow first-years by throwing in a cursory "Dumbass!" in Hinata's direction once in a while or glaring at the other middle blocker on their team.

_But isn't a quick asking for too much?_

_Something feels weird. Either Five is just a naive idiot, or..._

After Hiro's serve, Hajime saw Kindaichi edging closer to Kyoutani. _Good man_ , Hajime thought, glad that the first-year felt confident enough to lead the block on Karasuno's bald wing spiker. Baldy would definitely pick up the toss. He was probably Karasuno's ace, and Hajime had yet to see the other two attackers score from their current positions. Sure enough—

"BRING IT HERE!" Karasuno's Baldy yelled. Hajime, Kindaichi, and Kyoutani crouched for the block and

_BAM!_

"What the fuhhh—" said Takahiro and Watari in unison.

Kindaichi looked all around him, confused and turning himself in a circle. The ball never came anywhere near his block.

Hajime could barely hear himself think over Karasuno's cheers. _What the hell just happened?_

"Did the little number 5 just do the fastest quick _known to man_ after an entire set of spike misses?!" asked Yahaba, with a hint of panic.

"He's definitely different from he was in the first set," muttered Kindaichi, who already didn't like Five for giving him the nickname "Shallot-Head."

Hinata's playing and even his attitude changed so much between sets that Hajime wondered if he'd been faking it all along. Maybe he was never a nervous, enthusiastic but dopey first year who jumped at, in front of, and into his teammates. He was a streak of lightning on the court, with a shocking presence high in the air during their quicks.

"Argh! I can mark him, but sometimes he's just too goddamn fast," Issei growled.

The score was 20 to 23, with Karasuno in the lead. If Seijoh lost this next point, the best they could hope for was a deuce. But prolonging the set would not work in their favor; in one way or another, every Seijoh player lost their composure after the third or fourth perfect quick attack from their opponents, and they weren't about to recover while discouraged and exhausted.

Still, that didn't mean anyone was giving up. "Left, Senpai!" yelled Kindaichi. Hajime followed, trusting that the first-year had seen something he didn't. A flash of orange was zooming at them. Kindaichi grinned for a split second, then jumped with Hajime.

_Another swing and miss from Number 5!_

_BAM!_

"Shit!"

It was Yahaba, who barely got his arms up in time to stop the ball from slamming into his face, let alone jump for a block, before Karasuno's ace got the kill.

 _Damn it!_ Hajime was beyond frustrated. _I should've known... with that speed and presence, of course they'd use Number 5 as a decoy._

"Time out!" shouted Coach Irihata.

The Seijoh players let out a collective sigh of relief.

 

* * *

  
"Number 5's spikes look impressive because of his cross-court sprints and ability to hit Kageyama's quick sets," the head coach explained. "But we can only give him credit for his speed. Kageyama's timing and placing the ball exactly where he thinks Number 5's hand will end up during his jump."

"The only thing more accurate," concluded Coach Mizoguchi, "would be if Kageyama walked over to Number 5 and handed him the ball."

"Damn."  
"Seriously?"  
"How the hell do we beat that?" The team's murmurs grew more anxious and frantic when the coaches had nothing else to offer them.

"Enough," said Coach Irihata sternly. "Take a break. Clear your heads. Don't forget that there are four other opponents on the court for you to fight."

 

* * *

 

"You did try to recruit Kageyama right?"

"Of course—"

_"Hey."_

Yahaba looked up at the new voice. Watari had planted himself right in front of the setter, blocking the coaches from view.

"Don't listen to that crap. What did Akao-san used to say again?" Watari scratched his chin, pretending to think hard. "Wasn't it, 'You look like you're playing with a stick up your ass?'"

"Shut up! Those quicks are... so quick! And stupid!" Yahaba pouted, flustered.

Watari howled with laughter. "Aren't you always ranked top five in our year? Shouldn't your vocabulary be better than 'quick' and 'stupid'?"

"Oh, stuff it," said Yahaba, turning pink and lightly shoving Watari away. The libero grinned and sat down next to him.

"Whenever I got stuck in a difficult position during a match," Yahaba began, "I always thought 'What would Oikawa-san do?'"

Watari nodded in understanding and approval.

"But this is different. I know Oikawa-san would definitely turn this into a setter showdown. And I can't do that."

"Hey, Yahaba—"

"I don't mean that in the 'boo-hoo I'll never be as good as Kageyama' way," Yahaba snapped impatiently. "More like... what if we just accept, as a fact, that this quick is unstoppable. Then what?"

"Then aren't we screwed?" asked Watari.

"Maybe. Or maybe, if we can't _defend_ ourselves against that attack..." Yahaba paused for effect, watching Watari's reaction.

"Oh. Oh! We hit them. Harder and faster." Watari answered. 

"We have the firepower. I think it's obvious that Iwaizumi-san and Kyoutani are stronger than any of the spikers on that team. Sure, I'm no Kageyama, but I think only Oikawa-san could be a better setter with those two than I am now. So what are we missing?"

Watari grinned. "Me, obviously," he joked.

"Oh, obviously," Yahaba scoffed, then clapped his hands over his mouth.

"Watari. Watari. They don't have a libero."

"Yeah, I just said that."

"No, they don't have a libero, so when Number 5, Fastest Spiker in the West but also Shittiest Receiver Ever, is in the back—"

"He's a giant hole in their defense without a libero to switch with." Watari's eyes went wide; he was on board with Yahaba now. "Can we get past their blockers, though? I'm sure they know that kid's a liability in the back row. So we... what, you want everyone to have amazing serves all of a sudden?"

"No, but _one_ person with an amazing serve can throw Five and the rest of his team off their game." Yahaba grinned. "We held up our end of the deal with Kunimi. I mean look, he's still asleep and the coaches haven't said a word. Doesn't that mean his batteries are charged now? That's how he works, right?"

Watari laughed. "I'll go wake him up."

"No, wait. Let's talk to everyone and see what they think about using the rest of this set to observe. If it's for exploiting Karasuno's weaknesses, I don't think anyone will feel like we're throwing the match or something."

"Ohh, I get it," said Watari. Yahaba nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah," the libero explained, "I get why your vocabulary sucks. Your brain can't handle being good at two things at the same time, so it gave up on your studies to be smart about volleyball."

"UGH you _asshole_ , your compliments still suck! You suck!" He threw a towel in Watari's face and went to find the captain.

Watari's laughter was cut off by a low, threatening rumble behind him. He turned around very, very slowly.

"Why do you do that?" Kyoutani snarled.

"Do what?" asked Watari, forcing himself to keep eye contact. He knew that the best way of communicating with Kyoutani was to stay calm and be direct, if you didn't speak Muscle like Iwaizumi-san or if your name wasn't Yahaba.

"Kick Yahaba-san when he's down."

 _Whaaat?_ 'Yahaba-san' was an interesting new development, but Watari decided to focus on the main problem at hand. "No one's kicking anybody. I make fun of him and it cheers him up! Look!" He pointed towards the rest of the team, now huddled around Yahaba and the coaches. "Instead of being a sad sack here, he's being all captain-y over there."

Kyoutan didn't respond, just looked off into the distance. Watari couldn't tell if he was seeing frustration, anger, or something else in Kyoutani, because in the end it was all just one big scowl.

"You should show some respect," Kyoutani grunted.

"To Yahaba?" Watari laughed, despite the risk of getting his head torn off. "Kyoutani, my friend, next to Oikawa-san, Yahaba's the person I respect most on this team."

The scowl cleared a little. Watari took that as a sign to continue.

"You know I only started playing this position last year, right? I was a setter, but when I found out what Oikawa-san was capable of, I basically ran away. I mean, I don't regret it now, because I'm way more useful to all of you as a libero."

"But Yahaba. He did what I couldn't. He came in, knowing he'd be standing behind Oikawa-san for most of his high school career, and learned and worked and did whatever weird setter magic the two of them do to be like... that..." Watari trailed off, not really knowing how to describe the feeling that both setters seemed to know everything all of the time.

He was surprised to see Kyoutani nodding with a serious expression.  _Huh. I think he actually gets where I'm coming from._

Watari considered his current, relatively safe position, then thought, _How does that saying go? 'Let sleeping dogs lie?'_

_Eh, not really my style._

"Plus he's so cute when he's mad. Right? Riiiight?" Watari winked, trying to nudge Kyoutani with his elbow. The spiker hopped back a few steps in alarm.

"Shut up," Kyoutani barked, and walked away.

Watari reflected on the conversation they just had. _I'm not scared, injured, stressed out, or reeling from listening to a string of profanities after a conversation with Kyoutani. Hey, we're probably friends now!_

 

* * *

 

Tooru was on the edge of his seat, watching his teammates change their patterns and strategies for every single play after their last time out. It was strange, erratic, and intriguing. By the time Yahaba had served for the third time in a row, each received in turn by Glasses-kun, Tobio-chan, and Baldy-kun, Tooru's eyes lit up.

_"Experiment, execute, exploit, Yahaba."_

_"Oikawa-san... doesn't 'exploit' sound a little, I don't know, manipulative?" he'd asked, and Tooru had met his concern with a sly grin._

_"If you exploit your opponents and teammates equally, then you're just doing your job. The setter watches the entire court, more than anyone else. You provide that information to your team, develop plays that leverage the team's strengths against the opponents' weaknesses... use whatever word you want. Just observe, learn, and know that you'll play a little better with each passing second."_

There was so much going on, so much to see and listen to, so much to think about later. It'd been forever since Tooru saw everyone and _Incredible, they've all changed so much_. And when was the last time he got the chance to actually watch more than a set before having to leave?

For anyone else, it might've been overstimulation. Instead, Tooru was scribbling almost as quickly as he could think and regretting not bring his laptop so that he could type faster. _Talk to Yahaba about using more feints. Baldy-kun easily provoked but resilient. Captain best receiver but limited attack variety._ So much to tell the coaches...

He ended up missing the end of the second set, which went to Karasuno. But that was okay. The most important part of the match was about to start.

 

* * *

 

Just before the third set, Hajime scrolled through the six possible rotations in his mind. Karasuno's decision to shift their rotation by one player was clearly meant to take away Seijoh's advantages and poke holes in their defense. Their strongest attack formation now had to face Karasuno's tall middle blocker head on. And it would be on Kageyama's serve, too, so those attackers might not even get to touch the ball. At the same time, some combination of Issei, Hiro, and Watari would have to pick up that serve, but unfortunately only out of those three guys was really any good at receives. Plus, Yahaba, who was Seijoh's lowest block, would be up against Karasuno's ace and number 5 up front for two rotations.

"Shit, you know what these new combinations mean, right?" Hajime asked Yahaba. He spoke a little too loudly, forgetting to check his voice because of anxiety and concern, and the entire team turned to hear Yahaba's verdict. The vice-captain stalled, hoping the past few minutes he spent thinking of countermeasures would help him out somehow right now. But the longer he waited, the more the team started to dread the news.

"It means they're scared of us," said Kyoutani. His words cut through the gloom like a knife, and one by one everybody's faces brightened.

Yahaba was as startled as anyone else, but this was his chance to take advantage of the change in atmosphere. "Exactly. We should all be thinking this way. They're trying to protect their Number 5 and cut off our wing spikers because they can sense our threat. But it's all the same in the end. They're scared because we're the better team, and that's why we're going to win."

"Hell yeah! Good call, Kyoutani!" Watari cried, holding his hands out for a high five.

Issei whistled through his teeth. "Oh, that might be going too far." Hajime secretly agreed. They just got one miracle out of Kyoutani, no need to push for another.

"Maaan. We've got plenty of wing spikers but only one libero, and I love Watari but he would _not_ win in a fight against the Mad Dog," said Takahiro.

Kyoutani held his fist out. Watari pounded it, and Kyoutani nodded with a grunt. Half a dozen jaws dropped.

Kindaichi stared in awe. His eyes were sparkling with hope. "If this is a world where that can happen, we can win even if it's Kageyama."

"Yeah!" the team cheered.

 _Not the ideal pep talk,_ Hajime thought. _But let's take what we can get._


	15. Connected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Did you watch me? Do you get it now? You were always amazing, and you're still amazing now. Thank you for bringing us together and believing we could be a real team. Thank you for believing in me when nobody else did._  
>     
>  _You're the reason why I can stand here today and set in the best match I've played so far in my life. And I'm not the only one who feels this way. So come back. Come back to us._  
>  _Please believe in yourself. Be our captain. Be an unstoppable force with Iwaizumi-san. Laugh and cry on the court with all your heart. Let yourself love and don't hold back. Dominate college volleyball and Japan and the world._  
>   
>  _Oikawa-senpai, let me chase you again._

_**Two weeks ago.** _

"Am I imagining it, or..." asked Yahaba.

Hajime kept scrolling through Yahaba's texts with Tooru, but he didn't need to. It was all the same, thinly veiled words that screamed _fake, fake, fake_. 

The locker room was always a little stuffy, but Hajime felt like the rows of lockers were closing in on him. Yeah, they needed to have this conversation now. 

"No, he's been like this for a while with me too." Hajime said reluctantly. "On and off, since training camp."

"But why?!" Yahaba kicked a locker. "It's just us! Why is he— I thought you already— I thought we were—"

Hajime forced himself to breathe slowly through his nose. "There's a part of him that thinks we're pretending. That we don't care. Like we're, um." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Just pretending he matters."

Yahaba seized his arm and yanked hard, reaching down for his bag in one swift movement. "You. Me. Hospital. _NOW_."

"Wait!" said Hajime. "Listen. If we just force it on him, he'll just keep thinking the same thing."

"How the hell do you know?!" Yahaba shouted. "We have to try!" His grip tightened, and Hajime felt his fingers start to numb. "If we're direct, and we're saying it to him face to face, he'll know. He'll believe us."

"Yahaba," said Hajime, gently. He pulled his arm back, silently asking to be released. 

"But Senpai..."

"Please. We can't go." 

"Don't you care?" Yahaba's voice was tight, forced.

Hajime flinched. "Of course I do. But we need to find another way. Or maybe it'll just happen if we keep supporting him without pushing."

"... Whatever. I'm not waiting around." Yahaba's anger was mounting with every word. "I guess you wouldn't understand, huh, what it means to be open and honest. If you've been in love with him for so long and _still_ haven't confessed."

"Yahaba." It was a warning, this time. 

With all the contempt and disdain Yahaba could muster, he spat, "Are you a coward or have you been full of shit this entire time, hm? Were you just playing with him? Are you just throwing him away now that you _can't deal_ any more?"

Hajime wrapped his own hand loosely around Yahaba's wrist. The final warning. "Yahaba, let go of me and sit down _before I fucking make you."_

Yahaba, ever defiant, refused. Instead, he tried to squeeze harder while attempting to pry Hajime's fingers from his arm. But every time he tugged, Hajime's hold grew tighter. Grasping to clutching to nearly _crushing_.

At last, the setter gave in. Hajime immediately let go when Yahaba released him and sat down. 

But he still wasn't going to listen. Yahaba grabbed his bag, apparently ready to bolt for the door.

Hajime paused and considered what he was about to say. Tamiko-san and Takeshi-san... they didn't say it was a secret, but he never wanted to tell anyone, anyway. It was private and it _hurt_. If Yahaba didn't get an explanation, though, their friendship would undoubtedly break. He never wanted that to happen—especially not now.

"I know just telling him won't work," he breathed, "because his parents already tried."

Yahaba let his bag drop to the floor with a heavy thump, and with it every trace of hostility that had built up within him. "His parents. You mean he thinks... even them..."

He nodded. Words weren't working for him right now, not when he was watching a heart break in front of him. Like his own did when Tooru's parents told him about this, then shattered again and again every time he thought about the fact that what they were feeling was at least a million times worse. 

After a while, Hajime croaked. "So he's pretending too. Burning himself out by pretending to be happy, to have all the energy in the world. Everything we say and do still touches him, I think, but it doesn't stick. He told his parents that nobody needed to bother with the 'new' him. For now, he's trying to be the 'old' him, or something—"

"What, trying to play and go to school and all that? But that's not possible right now!"

"When did impossible ever stop Oikawa? He's so fucking stubborn and impatient and hard on himself. But this time, he might actually stop fighting and never believe in himself again. Let alone any of us."

"No no no _no no we can't_ —" Yahaba was trembling. 

"I know. I know! _Fuck!_ " Hajime shouted.

Yahaba winced. 

Hajime needed to get himself under control. "Um... did I hurt you earlier?" He asked carefully, tentatively. "I'm sorry. I needed you to listen and I didn't know how else—"

"Iwaizumi-san," interrupted Yahaba, between sniffles. "You didn't. And I'm sorry. I didn't know and I said all of those awful things about you but, just, if you were going to put him through more pain—"

"It's fine. If we were switched around, you might be missing some teeth right now." They shared a small smile. "I'm just pissed that I don't know what to do. Every time we think we've got him back, he shuts down."

"Can I... " Yahaba reconsidered his words. "... I have an idea. Do you trust me?"

"Yes." This, at least, was something Hajime could say without hesitation.

He couldn't quite read Yahaba's expression, then: swollen eyes, a firmly set jaw, eyebrows furrowed, and the tiniest hint of a very real smile. _Hope?_

"Get Oikawa-san to watch us play Karasuno. Can he get here? I'll call a cab if we need to. Or we can get Coach Mizoguchi to help us stream it. Anything. Anything at all. He just needs to watch because then he'll see the truth. He'll see himself in how we play and fight and win. He'll see how much he's always mattered, hasn't ever stopped, won't ever."

Hajime stared at this person in front of him. Yahaba is Yahaba, but sometimes the atmosphere around him matched Tooru's so clearly that it made Hajime's heart ache. Right now it was whatever always made Hajime think  _Yes, I believe everything you say and I'd even follow you off the edge of a cliff,_ whenever they were on a court together. Tooru needed to see this, how strong he'd help Yahaba become, and now Hajime understood why this was all going to work. 

Because it should be obvious to _anybody:_ this team grew from the rock-solid, unbreakable foundation that was Oikawa Tooru's pride and determination. Which, in turn, was born from his love for volleyball—maybe the only thing that could possibly move him, now. 

"I'll talk to everyone. Please just get Oikawa-san to watch," said Yahaba, on his way out to the gym. "Oh, and. It'll work. Since it's you... I think you can make him fall in love again."

Hajime suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. He wasn't going to say it, but it slipped out anyway. "Do you mean with—"

"Who knows, Iwaizumi-san?" Yahaba slipped out the door, leaving Hajime alone in the locker room.

He shook his head, face flaming red from Yahaba's parting words. He knew Yahaba meant with volleyball, but he still couldn't help imagining another version of this world where Tooru loved him back, never pulling away or shutting him out.

 _Even if it's impossible..._ _If there's even a chance I can make his life a little better, I'll never stop fighting for him._

 

* * *

 

_**Aoba Johsai v. Karasuno, third set.** _

Tooru was watching his notes come to life, and it was _excellent_. 

**Observation 2 : Three out of six Karasuno players are bad at receiving, and three out of six on our side have very good serves.**

**Example: Baldy-kun and our pinch server.**

Tooru frowned when Makki went off the court. _Is he hurt?_ But then he saw the newcomer and smiled. Kunimi as pinch server was an idea Tooru had toyed with himself, but Yahaba figured out how to make it happen. It had to be his idea, letting Kunimi sleep for two sets. No one would've allowed it at Kitagawa Daiichi, but Yahaba had made their two coaches understand that offering a solid block of naptime was really the best way to bribe Kunimi into action.

And then, the serve. There were traces of Tooru's own serve in both Tobio's and Kunimi's, even though both of them had learned it without his help. Tobio's were powerful and piercing, while Kunimi's had everything the other was missing: a fluid form that gave him flexibility and control. There was a touch of Yahaba's serve in there too, weird spins and angles that look deceptively easy to hit until the very end. All of this on top of Kunimi's own physical ability.

_But why didn't he aim for Chibi-chan? Path of least resistance... oh. Oh._

Tooru whistled, impressed by Kunimi's willingness to take a bold risk. "Somebody has a grudge~" he sang to himself, smiling. _I almost feel bad for Tobio right now._

Baldy-kun had called the receive but backed off, maybe out of reflex when he saw Tobio turn towards it. The ball bounced right in between the two players.

Tobio trying not to yell at a senpai was something Tooru never had the joy of experiencing before. _He's turning purple!_ It was a beautiful thing. But seeing Kunimi and Kindaichi share a smile, then, was maybe even better.

**Example: Chibi-chan and the best kouhai ever.**

Tooru listened in just before Yahaba tried for his third service ace at a very flustered Chibi-chan.

"Don't look that surprised, Iwaizumi-san. I know Oikawa-senpai is very distracting for you when he's on the court so maybe you never noticed, but when he was the starting setter I _was_ actually this team's pinch server."

Tooru laughed until he had to stop to catch his breath.

**Example: Glasses-kun and our ace.**

_Hitting them where it hurts twice._ Tooru thought. _Oh, Iwa-chan always knows the way to my heart._

The most powerful serve on Seijoh's team went straight at Glasses-kun. The ball ricocheted off his arms and out of bounds, and even _before_ it landed Tobio turned around and started lecturing his teammate, like he knew Glasses-kun was going to miss all along. Chibi-chan was usually the target of the setter's rants, and for some reason he seemed to take all of it quite well. Glasses-kun, however...

**Observation 5 : Glasses-kun really, really doesn't like Tobio.**

"Oi! You could've gotten that!" Tobio fumed.

Glasses-kun smirked. "If the King of the Court says it must be so, then so it shall be."

Tobio was shouting now. "You bastard! Don't call me that!" 

"Yes, your majesty." Glasses-kun replied, literally looking down his nose at Tobio.

"Tsukishima! Kageyama!"

 _Ooh, Crow Captain's angry..._ thought Tooru.

When Tobio only used Chibi-chan for center attacks, and when Karasuno's tallest block became a little easier to break, Tooru wasn't really surprised.

**Observation 11 : Coach-san has impeccable time-out timing. **

Karasuno was barely starting to recover from Seijoh's serve blitz when Coach-san called a time-out. 

It drove Karasuno crazy. This was their chance for a comeback, and they were anxious and jumpy and did _not_ want to stop.

Coach Irihata watched, sipped at his thermos of tea like he was enjoying a nice breakfast and reading the paper. Tooru felt a strong urge to give him a robe and fuzzy slippers.

"Why now? And not later to break their momentum?" asked Coach Mizoguchi.

 _Ah, thanks, Coach-chan,_ Tooru thought. He had just asked exactly what he was wondering himself.

Coach Irihata took another sip, taking his time to enjoy the flavor. "So we can crush their all of their hope before they pick up any momentum."

 _I really do love this team,_ Tooru thought.

 

* * *

 

**Observation 14 : Yahaba Shigeru is a very dangerous man.**

"Your sets are too low. _He_ gets in the way," Kyoutani barked, jabbing a finger towards someone on Karasuno's side. Tooru sighed. Mild-mannered Number 3 seemed like a nice person who didn't need Kyoutani in his life.

"They're _not_ low, they're where you can actually _hit_ them! And why the hell wouldn't he get in the way?! He's our opponent!" Yahaba yelled back.

"That's where I feel like hitting them most of the time. But I can jump higher."

It took Yahaba about two and a half seconds to explode.

"You can. What. _WHAT_ you couldn't say this, I don't know a few _months_ ago? You—hey Iwaizumi-san _let me GO_ because I need to bash his head in—"

"Now we know and he can get over more blocks! Good, right?" said Watari, attempting to placate his friend.

Yahaba was windmilling his arms while caught in Iwaizumi's grasp. "At least let me break his left arm it won't hurt the team—"

The captain sighed and dragged Yahaba back to his position.

"Yahaba, just let it go..." Iwaizumi sounded exhausted, but at least Yahaba was staying put.

Still, the setter didn't give up. "No come on let _me_ go I'm making him pay for that—"

Hanamaki, from a distance, clapped happily. "Yay! Communication!"

 

* * *

 

Yahaba waited impatiently for the next break. Finally, he got his chance and rounded on Kyoutani.

"You. You owe me." He snarled, poking Kyoutani in the chest after each word. Kyoutani stared at Yahaba's hand, still pressing hard on his breastbone.

To this day Yahaba would deny he ever did this _("Who the fuck does that?!" he'd always say)_ , even though pretty much the entire team was watching and wishing they had their phones on them for future blackmail. But nobody made a move; only the captain would dare interrupt a scene like this, and he was busy with the coaches.

The vice-captain slowly ran his finger up Kyoutani's neck and set it against the underside of his chin. With a sharp, upward jerk, Yahaba tilted Kyoutani's head back and revealed his throat, relishing in the fact that Kyoutani was straining so much, now, just to see what he was about to do. 

Yahaba leaned in, calmly, seductively. He whispered so that no one else could hear. "You will _break_ Karasuno for me. Do not stop until they _can't get back up_."

When he let go and walked away, it was the first time anyone on the team had ever seen Kyoutani smile.

 

* * *

 

The score was 10 to 8, Karasuno finally pulling ahead with their freakish quick. But Five was having a much harder time scoring now, since Yahaba was no longer a hole in Seijoh's defense. Yes, he knew he was a short and relatively weak block. So he simply stopped blocking, clearing the way for the other defenders to move freely and for Watari to see the the spike's path. Sometimes, Watari's receives would make it exactly where Kyoutani needed it to, winning the point without ever passing to the setter. All of this was putting Karasuno in disarray, and Yahaba knew it was time. 

On Kageyama's next serve, Hanamaki flubbed the receive. Yahaba made it to the ball for the set, but he was off balance—falling backwards during his toss. His only option was a high, slow toss across the court.

"The ace! Cover!" Kageyama yelled.

Normally, that would be the right call. Kindaichi always got nervous in a pinch, and Kageyama probably knew that from experience. So that left Kyoutani, positioned between Yahaba and Kindaichi, and Iwaizumi, on the left, to attack.

 _Oh, don't look so confident, Kageyama Tobio,_ Yahaba thought. _You don't know_ which _ace~_

"Go!" Yahaba urged.

Iwaizumi took a slow run-up, crouching for a jump with Karasuno's tall middle blocker and their captain at the ready right across the net.

And then Kyoutani _shot_ up, much, much higher than anyone ever expected, intercepting the ball and slamming it down Karasuno's abandoned center.

He was a brutal, ruthless force Karasuno never saw coming so late in the match.

When Kyoutani was in the front row again, Watari's receive gave Yahaba the time to try something a little different. It was a lower toss, headed towards Kyoutani; Karasuno was already on guard against the straight that blew them all away last time.

But then Karasuno's captain saw Kyoutani swing and miss at the ball. "Feint! Right! Number 4!"

Kyoutani lashed out with his left hand and punched the ball over the net.

 

* * *

  
Tooru whistled through his teeth. Yahaba was working him _hard_. But he couldn't figure out why the setter didn't seem worried about sending Kyouken-chan side to side on the court at full speed, barreling through teammates in his path. 

Though somehow, there were no collisions. Nobody got hurt. _Huh._

Tooru got really suspicious when even Kindaichi, who through no fault of his own was not exactly light on his feet, dodged with next to no effort.

He took a closer look. Yep, Yahaba totally had the Mad Dog wrapped around his little finger.

_I'm sure he'd never charge across the court like that if Yahaba told him not to. ... Which means Yahaba lets it happen? And nobody's freaking out?_

_Oh. Whoa._

Tooru laughed when he felt a chill run down his back. It was a feeling he welcomed when he watched Yahaba play, and he never quite understand why no one seemed to get how deadly his dear kouhai was as a setter and future captain. 

_Did he seriously make everyone practice dodging Kyoutani?!_

Of the three past and present captains and vice captains here today, only Yahaba would pull something as dangerous— _and a maybe a little sadistic,_ Tooru thought, with no negative feeling whatsoever —as this. At the same time, the most anxious people on the team were Iwa-chan and Kindaichi, and neither of them seemed to mind at all.

Tooru was nearly bursting with satisfaction. _Anyone who thinks Yahaba Shigeru is hiding in my shadow should know that a spotlight has been on him the entire time. You just didn't know where to look, and now you're in for a nasty surprise._

 

* * *

 

Karasuno called a time out. It was a last ditch effort to turn the match around and it looked like both teams knew it.

Tooru marveled at Seijoh's current attack strategy. _I can't believe Iwa-chan would give up so many spikes to Kyouken-chan. His ability to control his ego is really pretty amazing. I don't know if that many other aces would be willing to do this._ Tooru smiled fondly.

 

* * *

 

Hajime cleared his throat, taking advantage of the easy, relaxed atmosphere on Seijoh's side. "Yahaba," he said, as casually as he could, "wanna toss it my way once in a while?"

Yahaba arched an eyebrow. "Are you _pouting_ , Captain?"

"No! Shut up." Hajime laughed, trying to hide the fact that he was pouting. "Don't give me that look. Just let me hit the damn ball, all right?"

"Iwaizumi-san," Yahaba chided, "you know you don't really have to show off for Oikawa-san any more. But if you're feeling lonely I'm sure he'll come down here if you ask him to."

"You shitty brat!" Hajime had no comeback. The worst thing about most of Yahaba's teasing was there was usually way too much truth involved.

"Just trying to keep my captains happy," he winked.

 

* * *

 

"Iwaizumi-san, Yahaba's in the middle of something but he wanted to know if you guys wanted to take over now," said Watari.

The captain glanced at Kyoutani. He did look exhausted and absolutely deserved a break.

"Got it. I'll let them know. And I know I've said this before, even if Yahaba'll probably never do it for some reason. You can drop the honorifics already."

Watari munched on his banana, taking a moment to swallow and make sure there were no projectiles nearby.

"Okay," the libero pulled out his phone. "So do we call you Iwa-chan, now?" Watari aimed, tapped the screen, and ran off in an instant. He only caught a brief glimpse of the captain's surprise/horror/anger/rage/embarrassment, but he also didn't bother to look at the photo he just took. The entire team would be seeing it many, many times in the future.

"My condolences," said Takahiro. They heard Watari ask, "Hey Yahaba, did you still need another present to give Oikawa-san?"

"These second years are all turning into Oikawa, I swear." Hajime paused, realizing something. "Hey, why don't they ever make fun of you guys?"

"I babysit Yahaba's sister," said Issei.  
"I give Watari pork buns every week," added Takahiro.

_Great. So I have to buy my sanity on this team._

All three of them looked at the bench when a phone buzzed on it. Hajime checked his texts.

 **Oikawa Tooru:** Iwa-chan I heard you see me wherever you go? is that romantic or weird???

He looked up at Issei and Hiro. "I don't know which one of you betrayed me here or how you even have your phones on you, we have no pockets but UGH that is NOT what I said."

 **Oikawa Tooru:**  Oh I sent that pic to your mom to brighten her day

 **Iwaizumi Hajime:**  Why the hell do you have her number

 **Oikawa Tooru:** If you made this face when I first called you Iwa-chan I would've stopped

 **Oikawa Tooru:**  It's just

 **Oikawa Tooru:**  So ugly that it's cute?

 **Oikawa Tooru:**  Omg Iwa-chan she just said THE EXACT SAME THING

Hajime wanted to throw a volleyball at someone.  _Double hill sprints tomorrow for everybody._

 

* * *

 

The match was over. Well, not really, but Karasuno didn't stand a chance now. There was still plenty to watch on the court, though, because the third-years were in action.

 _That's right,_ thought Tooru. _Fight back. Put the second year combo to shame. Don't let them overwhelm you._

And _oh,_  they fought.

Pipe to a back attack from Makki. Blocks that looked more like kills from Mattsun and Iwa-chan. Makki catching a badly concealed dump shot from Tobio and letting Yahaba score with the exact same shot. No signs, no shouting, no ready-set-gos to synchronize timing.

 _Finally,_ Tooru thought. _They remembered how they played in middle school._

It was a well-oiled machine running at its best. 

 

 

* * *

 

"Wow. You guys are doing really well today!" Yahaba said happily. 

Hanamaki cleared his throat. 

"The ties that unite us were forged over many moons, enduring tests of knowledge and barely survived the agony known to man in their second decade on this earth. Do not underestimate the mystical forces behind these bonds, Vice-Captain Yahaba-sama."

"Um," replied Yahaba.

"Here," Iwaizumi said, waving Matsukawa over. "Translator."

Matsukawa sighed. "Sorry. He gets like this when he's in a good mood. It's something like, 'we're three idiots who went to school together for way too long, didn't kill each other when we went through puberty, and are now weirdly in sync.'" 

Iwaizumi shrugged, Matsukawa just stood there, and Hanamaki grinned. 

 

* * *

 

When Tooru heard "Toss wherever you want. One of us will get it no matter what" just then, his heart skipped a beat.

That's where it all started to break.

He always felt like perfect trust slipped through his fingers every time he found it, but here it was flowing through the entire team. All of it made possible by a setter who was and wasn't just like him, tossing and leading just the same but able to _let go_ on the court. Trusting his team and relinquishing control, allowing everyone to mingle and fuse naturally.

And that is how you find _resonance._  

The three second years: the future captain, a libero with an advantage unlike any other (and was so close to figuring it out, his secret attack), and a devastating spiker with a longer reach than any human body should allow. The somewhat unlikely alliance that would be the core of Aoba Johsai's team next year.

The first year starters: a dark horse pinch server with the counterpart to Tobio's killer serve, and the tallest middle blocker Seijoh's ever had who also happened to have the most potential. Once they had a serve-and-block in their repertoire, they could turn any match around.

The three third years, the three best friends, a joker, peacemaker, and grumpy old man who despite appearances have anchored the team for almost a year and a half straight. The three who changed Tooru's life.

And finally, the setter and the ace, Vice-Captain and Captain, Yahaba Shigeru and Iwaizumi Hajime, dancing a waltz on that court with all the drama and flair of perfect steps and perfect timing, the conductor and concertmaster taking a moment to enjoy the music they've been creating. 

_What am I doing?_

_'The setter and his ace.'_  
_'An unbreakable bond.'  
_

_I'm not. I can't. But I want it. I want it. I want it. Why am I just watching?_

_Yahaba, you're incredible, but I should be tossing for Iwa-chan._

Tooru forced all of this out of his head. That's in the past, now. 

_Oh, we're about to win._

Serve receive by Watari to Yahaba to—

* * *

_(I want to make him fly like that.)_

Tooru was in sixth grade again, awkward with glasses that would never stay put and clothes that didn't quite fit, leaning too far over the railing to see better. They kept saying that the boy who wore number 1 was the ace. He'd seen plenty of aces play on TV, but this Number 1 looked nothing like them. Just... ordinary. His uniform was a little too short and his arms were kind of pudgy. He tripped over his feet walking off the court for a time-out. 

Then, Tooru saw him spike for the first time, and everything changed. 

The jump and backswing and follow-through and _wait, his eyes? (no he can't see me, why would he look here)_  were beautiful. _(perfect)._ And then he got himself tangled up in the net and ruined it, but it all became part of the same rush of emotions that made Tooru burst into tears.

 _I want to make him fly like that,_  he thought back then. He'd never wanted anything this much.  _He has to be my ace._

Tooru fell in love twice that day, once with volleyball and once with the boy who showed him he could live this life fearlessly.

Who was _still_ showing him, six years later, right now.

_Stop. Stop it. I can't stop watching you if you play like that, again. You're the worst. And don't come crying if you jump into the net this time, too._

_(I want to make him fly like that.)_

A thought that was no longer submerged in the darkest depths of his heart. 

* * *

_(I wish I could tell you how much you've already done for me.)_

Tooru, alone in the hospital some time last year. He clutched a crumpled note in his hand, eating homemade milk bread and wishing tomorrow afternoon would come faster.

_I still can't tell you. But you know exactly what you're doing this time around, don't you, Iwa-chan?_

* * *

_(Maybe they love me a lot more than I can understand.)_

The story he overheard that one time he was supposed to be asleep and his parents reminisced:

Oikawa Takeshi could do a lot at 8 in the morning. By then, all the ovens were running. Ingredients were carefully measured and set aside for the next batches. He checked inventory. On good days, he'd even start planning new pastries. ( _Piece of cake! Hah!_  )

He could not, however, handle the long string of words flowing out of his son right now, for 12 minutes and counting. There was a lot about volleyball and gyms and someone called 'Iwa-chan'.

In the end, Takeshi mostly understood what Tooru was asking for. He looked at the papers Tooru presented, first, wondering why the top sheet of paper was cut into the shape of an arrow. He resolutely did not laugh when he realized he was holding an application and info packet for the local boys' volleyball club, and the arrow indicated where a parent or guardian had to sign. 

"Well, uh, thanks. That makes it easy for me," he said.

Tooru beamed. When he took back the form from his dad, he not-so-subtly looked to see if it was actually signed.

Next, Tooru plopped a lumpy bag on the countertop. "It's a little under 1500 yen," he explained. "But I don't know how expensive volleyballs are. Do you think it's better if we get bills from the register? Maybe the store won't like it if we only give them coins."

Takeshi took one look at his son, closed the bakery for an hour, and hoped that the sporting goods store would be open by the time he got there.

He waited another block after hearing "Dad, you forgot the money!" in the distance before he let out a huge, raucous stream of laughter. It didn't matter if the neighbors would gossip about him later. He laughed because Tooru was cute and funny and weird, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He laughed because he could already see the look on Tamiko and Tooru's faces when they both judged him for not memorizing that giant glob of information the first time around. And he laughed out of pure joy, because for the first time he could remember, Tooru had wanted something, asked for it, and looked  _so damn happy_  the entire time.

When he got home, he was going to find out what happened yesterday, and how to make it happen over and over again. And if there really was a person who started all this, someone who made his son's eyes sparkle like that for the first time in his life, he needed to track that person down and thank them from the bottom of his heart.

(There might've been more to the story, but his mother's laugh tinkling like wind chimes in a gentle breeze and his father's voice—forever steady and dependable and always meant _home—_ were all he needed to fall into a deep and calm sleep.)

 _How could I ever doubt them?_  

* * *

"How dare you," Tooru whispered, "show me something like this now. Don't you know that I already gave up?"

_(Can I give you up after I finally found you?)_

He looked at the score. 25-18, set and match to Seijoh.

_(Am I really someone who doesn't belong on the court?)_

The winning point scored by the captain of the Aoba Johsai boys' volleyball team, who had always worn the number one in Tooru's eyes, always him, only him. 

Here it was, that mad rush of emotions like when he first saw him play. But this time, Tooru was 17 and everything he felt now had been growing, evolving, bursting at the seams since that first time, until _—_  

 

> _"Please, Tooru, please let me believe in you. I don't know if I can ever do as much for you as you did for me—as you're doing for me—but will you let me try?"  
>  (You don't have to waste your time with me now.)_
> 
> _"You're gonna come see us beat Karasuno."_  
>  _(Stop trying so hard.)_
> 
> _"Just know that there's at least one more person who thinks the world of you just as you are."  
>  (But you don't know what I'll become.)_
> 
> _"Didn't I just tell you? No matter what happens, I'm always gonna be by your side."  
>  _ _(Why haven't you left yet?!)_
> 
> _Earnest and true. Really, when it comes to Iwaizumi Hajime, could it be any other way?  
>  (... I said that, didn't I.)_

> _"I just think, there's never nothing for you out there. Even if your body changes. There are so many people out there who are cheering for you all the time even if you don't know it. Hoping that you'll keep going."  
>  (I need to call Mom and Dad right now. Oh God. Will they forgive me?)_
> 
> _"Even when you feel alone, exhausted, defeated... that reason can sustain you."  
>  (But I can't do this for you, so you shouldn't have to do this for me! Stop!)_
> 
> _"You support me just by being you. So I'm here for selfish reasons, to be around the person I rely on. And I'm gonna ask for something else because, you know, greedy. Please, Tooru, please let me believe in you."_

"Why? Hajime, please...  _Why_ won't you let me _give up?_ "

Tooru covered his face with both of his hands and cried.

 

* * *

 

Yahaba heard a voice behind him.

"Hey. I'm gonna go find Oikawa, but um. Thank you. For everything. There was no way I could even try to bring him back without you."

Yahaba turned himself around on the bench to respond and met the top of the captain's head. "Iwaizumi-san, stop that! Stand up already!" he squawked.

The captain straightened himself up with a watery grin. "Though you could've used your ace more effectively."

"Ugh, you jerk, don't cry, it'll make me start crying! And quit complaining, too!" Yahaba turned his back to Iwaizumi, searching for a towel to make it look like he was wiping sweat off his face.

"Shut up, dumbass! I'm not crying. And why the hell can you call me a jerk but not 'Iwaizumi'?"

Yahaba laughed. _Oh, nope, gonna cry anyway._ "Do you think we reached him?"

"Yeah. I think so."

  

* * *

 

_For my hero, up in the stands._

_Did you watch me? Do you get it now? You were always amazing, and you're still amazing now. Thank you for bringing us together and believing we could be a real team. Thank you for believing in me when nobody else did._

_You're the reason why I can stand here today and set in the best match I've played so far in my life. And I'm not the only one who feels this way. So come back. Come back to us._

_Please believe in yourself. Be our captain. Be an unstoppable force with Iwaizumi-san. Laugh and cry on the court with all your heart. Let yourself love and don't hold back. Dominate college volleyball and Japan and the world._

_Oikawa-senpai, let me chase you again._

 

* * *

 

"I think you have a visitor," said Hajime. He felt a little bit bad for giving Tooru's position away to the enemy, but after a quick chat with that Number 5 Hinata, Hajime had a certain feeling this was going to play out in an interesting way...

He heard a sharp intake of breath from Tooru as Kageyama appeared in the doorway. The younger setter's face was impassive, but he raised one hand in greeting. Tooru lifted his hand, but evidently a full wave was too much for his shocked state. He did, at least, manage to wiggle a few fingers.

Kageyama stopped in front of Tooru, not saying a word. They stared at each other in silence, Tooru becoming more and more unnerved at the stern-faced setter in front of him. He broke, first.

"Come on, Tobio, just hit me already!" Tooru gritted through his teeth.

"Hello, Oikawa-san." Kageyama gave a quick bow. "I— I don't think I'm supposed to? Hinata—that's my teammate, the short one—he says that I don't know how to talk to people. But I'm sure hitting someone is a bad way of asking them for their advice. So, um, I guess I won't hit you?"

And then words just started _pouring_ out of Kageyama. Hajime could barely keep up. Did he get this habit from Tooru, or was it the other way around? 

"Please tell me how you think I played today, Oikawa-san!" Kageyama was saying. "And how you think I can improve! How was my hand position in the first set? What about the second? Did the toss height look okay for each player? I wasn't sure about the spin on the fourth point of the second set. Did you see that I changed—"

To Hajime, Kageyama Tobio—the predatory King Crow—was more like... a little pug? Maybe a bulldog puppy? Grumpy looking but _awfully_ cute.

To Tooru, going from surprised to afraid to determined to utterly confused was a little much for him right now. He held a finger up to stop the flow of questions and forced himself to look Tobio in the eye. This was it. "I—I hit you. That day. When I was still at Kitaichi, when you asked me to teach you a jump serve."

Kageyama gave Tooru a bland sort of look. Totally unreadable. "I guess? Oh, I know. But why do you remember? You were always poking people and jumping on them and smacking them so I don't know why this stands out to you. I remember because you were the first person who tried to stop me from practicing too late. I didn't like that much, plus I really wanted to see your serve, but you went home anyway. Plus Sawamura-san, that's our captain, he says I practice too much too. He is very good at monitoring our physical limits."

"..."

Tooru's mouth was hanging open, hand raised as if to object, but said or did nothing. His brain might've just spontaneously combusted.

"Wait, wait a minute."

Tooru blinked. _Iwa-chan?_

Hajime stepped forward to address Kageyama. "Hi, Iwaizumi Hajime, third year, number four just now, nice to meet you. So you're saying that Oikawa here did you a _favor_ because he _cared_ about you enough to send you home. With a little _tap_ that he gave other people all the time."

Tooru gave him a very dirty look, then turned back to Tobio. The younger setter was nodding.

"Buh, but," Tooru began, a little desperately in this battle he'd already lost, "Even before the match, that look you gave me... and _don't_ say it's how you look, I know what your dumb angry resting face looks like," Tooru tried to snap, but he ended up sounding more or less like a grumpy kid on the playground.

Tobio said nothing. 

"Today," Tooru said. No response.

"During warmups." Still nothing.

"I was sitting _right_ here."  _Oh my God. If Chibi-chan is actually friends with Tobio, he deserves a medal._

Finally, Tobio spoke up. "Oh. I was confused. You had glasses on, so I didn't know it was you. Even when I squinted, it still didn't look like you."

 _What._ "... I've had glasses since third grade," Tooru reminded him.

Tobio scrunched up his face, and if Tooru didn't know any better he'd say that the boy was actually worried about not being able to understand this conversation.

"I didn't know you back then," said Tobio.

Tooru lost it. "Are you fu—You know we went to the same school for a whole year, right? Not just for volleyball, Tobio-chan, _actual_ school where you learn things _other than volleyball_. Where I wore glasses whenever I wasn't in the gym."

A burst of laughter made both setters turn their heads.

"HAHAhahaha oh man this uh I just remembered I have to go do something funny. No, not funny. I mean it is. But no. I— _Mmmphfff_ —" Hajime was bent over, holding his stomach, and wheezing with laughter. When he finally calmed down a bit, he straightened himself up and cleared his throat.

One look at Tooru and he completely lost it again. " _Wow,_ okay," Hajime managed to say while wheezing from laughing too much. "Good game, Kageyama, see you at Interhigh." He stumbled away, now cackling.

"Hm. Oikawa-san, your friend is very cheerful for someone that intimidating on the court," said Tobio.

Tooru massaged his temples for a moment. He wanted to rip his own hair out.

_Fine, Universe. Thank you for taking away my guilt or whatever. For the record, you still suck._

Tooru looked up, and Tobio was still standing there with the same expression.

 _"Fine,_ I guess since I'm here anyway..." Tooru sighed. "Have a seat, Tobio. I think you can use your ace a little more effectively, especially when your formation is..."

 

* * *

 

"Holy shit Tooru, how weak were you in junior high? He compared you hitting him to poking." Hajime would never let this go.

"Shut up!" Tooru whined. "He just has a stupid hard head, okay?!"

"That was way better than I ever hoped it would be," said Hajime, a dreamy look in his eyes.

"Yes, yes, _Iwa-chan was right and I didn't ruin Tobio's life_. Ugh. Happy?"

"Very, actually."

It was a mild, early-summer night, the storm earlier giving way to clear skies and the barest whisper of a breeze. They took their time getting back to the hospital, idly plucking a leaf from a bush in passing or taking detours to see if they could find fireflies. 

"Hey, Tooru." Hajime said after a while.

"... Yes, Iwa-chan?" 

"Have you ever had a cat?"

Tooru frowned. He had a feeling he might not like where this conversation was going. "No, but I've volunteered at shelters. ... Why?"

"You know how little kittens kinda smack your face around if you pick 'em up? With their tiny paws?"

"OH MY GOD Iwa-chan—"

"Shhh! You're so loud! And I'm saying you're cute!"

"So! Rude!" Tooru said, very quietly, but poking Hajime hard in the ribs after each word.

"Okay! Okay. Seriously, I'm glad you ended up not doing any damage."

"Yeah. And it looks like he's grown out of that kind of tossing anyway. Karasuno actually looked pretty good out there, especially during the second set." Tooru thought back to that crazy quick with Chibi-chan and Tobio. _Are there other ways of shutting that down? Do any other teams have an attack like that? Could—_

"I mean," Hajime interrupted, "that you literally did no physical damage— _OW_ okay yes ow you have the strength of _a thousand_ men ow okay _okay_ —"

The punches stopped a little too suddenly. Hajime looked back to see Tooru leaning against a fence, eyes closed. 

Hajime joined him. "Hey, you tired? We're not far, I can carry you."

Before Tooru even opened his eyes, let alone complain, Hajime was already crouching down.

"... Fine. But only because I got tired from having to hit you so many times," said Tooru.

Hajime laughed. "Ready?" he asked, and felt a nod at his shoulder.

Tooru nuzzled into Hajime's neck, just below the ear. "Iwa-chan."

"Hm?" Hajime could feel Tooru's breath, warm and steady.

"I wanted to see some fireflies, but at least the stars are out tonight."

"Mm."

"Iwa-chan?"

"Yeah?"

"That was really cruel of you, you know," Tooru whispered.

Hajime jolted to a stop. "Wait, really? Did I go too far just now? Hey, I'm—let me put you down so we can talk properly, here—"

—but then he felt Tooru wrap his arms more tightly around him.

"Showing a match like that to someone who wants to give up," Tooru muttered into his shoulder.

Hajime tensed for a moment, then let out a long, slow breath. 

"I don't think I can apologize for that." He wanted to laugh. Maybe even dance a little. "Someone who wants to give up" was so, so much better than "someone who already gave up."  

_Please let this mean that Tooru might be happy again._

What followed would become one of Hajime's favorite things—the feeling of Tooru's lips shifting into a smile, pressed against his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on Nagi and Kousei's performance in _Your Lie in April_ , which is probably my favorite part of the story so it got the full treatment here. 
> 
> With so many POV changes, I think I lost track of family name/given name usage a bit. If something is different than usual on that front in this chapter (or the previous one) it is not intentional!
> 
> We are very close to the end now, maybe 2 more chapters.


	16. Hiding from the rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I need to do this," he said, "to be able to face my parents who worked so hard to raise me, and for a chance to make my impossible dreams a reality."_
> 
>  
> 
> _He then allowed himself a small smile, and a faint pink was rising on his cheeks as he continued. "There's a boy I met not too long ago who's been doing his best to make me remember everything I love in this life. If surgery will bring me even just a little bit closer to living how I want to live, then it's the only option for me."_

"—I _must_ remind you of the possible, no, likely consequences—" The doctor tried to keep her voice neutral.

"Doctor," her patient said softly, "I've read the research cover to cover. I recorded all of my appointments with all the specialists and I've looked up everything I don't understand from them. I know that I'm putting every single thing I have on the line."

 _How can you?_ she wanted to ask. But it wasn't a question for him, really. It was just another bitter reminder that this is the kind of world where seventeen year olds are prepared to face death.

She spent the next few moments studying her patient and his parents. They probably looked like the perfect family from the outside, the parents owners of a successful bakery in town and the son in his third year of high school near the top of his class. But here, where there were no secrets, the Oikawas shared the grim, hollow air of those who had to guard themselves from pain for far too long. Only the slightly-too-quick rise and fall of the father's chest and the vice-like grip the mother had on her son's hand betrayed the hurt and anxiety they had otherwise tucked away.

The doctor knew she was just being stubborn. She would of course abide by this family's decision, but a part of her wished (always wished, every time) that her patient didn't have to make this final, desperate move.

She was about to go over the statistics one more time when her patient's piercing gaze took her breath away.

He held her attention with a calm, steady air. "I need to do this," he said, "to be able to face my parents who worked so hard to raise me, and for a chance to make my impossible dreams a reality."

He then allowed himself a small smile, and a faint pink was rising on his cheeks as he continued. "There's a boy I met not too long ago who's been doing his best to make me remember everything I love in this life. If surgery will bring me even just a little bit closer to living how I want to live, then it's the only option for me."

The doctor closed her eyes. _Of course._ This was not someone choosing to die because there was no other option. He was hopeful, and determined, and choosing to fight. And she felt something else about him, a magnetic sort of energy that made her want to throw all of her worries out the window and believe wholeheartedly in the path he had chosen.

"Very well," she said. "We have a few forms to go over, first..."

 

* * *

 

Before she left, the doctor asked, "Oikawa-kun, I understand that you're a volleyball player... are you the captain by chance?"

Tooru stared at her, pleased but rather puzzled. He never told anyone at the hospital, preferring not to dwell on the life he no longer had. "I was. Before," he peered down at his legs with a grimace, "you know."

Her only reply was, "Thought so. It suits you," before walking out the door.

Tooru smiled. _Present tense, huh._

 

* * *

 

Kyoutani planted himself in Iwaizumi's path, squared his shoulders, and growled, "You suck today."

Yahaba stopped himself from rushing forward. If Kyoutani had challenged anyone else but the captain, he would've intervened in a flash. But Iwaizumi was one of the two people on the team who could intimidate some manners back into Kyoutani, and Yahaba needed a break once in a while.

"Okay," said Iwaizumi with a vague smile, patted Kyoutani on the head, and left the gym while the entire team stared in silence. Even Kyoutani was dumbfounded for a moment before stomping away, not even bothering to change.

"Ooh, killing with kindness, huh," Watari mused. "Interesting strategy."

"I don't like it. It's weird," Kunimi commented.

Kindaichi, after making sure no one was watching, reached up to pat his own hair experimentally.

 _No, something's up,_ Yahaba thought. As if on cue, Hanamaki and Matsukawa waved to him from the gym exit. _We're on it_ , they mouthed, and followed Iwaizumi into the locker room. 

Hajime had changed back into his school uniform, and he was now lying on his back across a bench, holding his phone above him and smiling at it.

"Oi, Hajime," said Takahiro.

No response.

"Iwaizumi." He poked at the captain.

Still, nothing.

He cringed at what he was about to say. "... Iwa-chan?"

Nope.

Issei, who'd been watching this one-sided exchange in silence, scoffed at his boyfriend. "I'm disappointed, Hiro. Are you his best friend or not?" He made a  _step back_ sort of waving gesture, cleared his throat, and announced, "Hajime. Tooru just texted saying he wanted to eat that fancy milk bread from that one store, but he didn't want me to tell you."

Hajime was on his feet in an instant. "Seriously? Thanks Issei, you're the best." And charged out the door...

... or he would have, if Issei and Takahiro hadn't each grabbed one of his arms and dragged him back to the bench.

"And _I'll_ be taking _that_ ," said Takahiro, and plucked Hajime's cell phone out of his pocket.

"Oi!" Hajime yelled, struggling to pull himself free. But his two friends were already scrolling through his texts.

"Um. You were looking at your texts all day, right? There's nothing good in here," Takahiro complained. "See, here's the last one from Tooru," he said, and handed the phone to Issei.

"'Can you come to the hospital after practice, wink, peace sign, heart," Issei read aloud. He shrugged.

"It's a big deal, okay? Shut up," Hajime blurted. His face was glowing red.

"We're missing something. _Talk_ ," his captors said in unison.

"Fine, you nosy assholes. It's just..." Hajime trailed off, then suddenly surged forward to try and break free.

"Nope!" Hiro said happily, pleased that he had the upper hand over Hajime for once in a physical contest (no one else needed to know that Issei was helping). "Now spill."

"Tooru's never asked me to go to the hospital, okay? Not that I mind asking him if I can visit every day. But this is the first time and it's kind of... a thing..." Hajime trailed off. His face was on fire, now.

"What." Issei said flatly. 

"Seriously?! You visit him every day?" Hiro exclaimed, completely astounded.

"He always waits for you to ask," said Issei at the same time.

"Yes?" Hajime replied. Why were his friends just repeating him?

"Man, you wanna be our boyfriend too?" Hiro asked, before Issei elbowed him in the stomach.

Hajime rolled his eyes, but his annoyance only lasted a few moments before melting into fondness. "Plus, he's been in such a good mood since we played Karasuno..."

"But I thought he couldn't—" Issei paused to consider his words, then said, "When I saw him last week, it seemed like a wheelchair was the only way he could..."

Hajime nodded. "Yeah, walking's been a lot harder for him. But the fact that he can still be in a good mood now, at least I wanna think we helped a little bit with that, you know?" he mumbled.

Hiro and Issei gave each other a look, then both let go of Hajime's arms.

"Hey, anything that helped him was all you. Take the credit for once," Issei encouraged.

"It is a pretty impressive feat," added Hiro, "getting Tooru to let anyone help him."

Hajime laughed. That was the understatement of the year. But today sealed the deal: he didn't have to worry about not being able to help any more, because this text meant Tooru was finally letting him in for real. And if Hajime had his way, Tooru won't ever have to go through any of this alone.

He grinned at his two friends. "Gotta get going, that convenience store is all the way across town. See you guys tomorrow!" And he ran out the door.

"Hey! I lied! Tooru never texted me!" Issei called. But Hajime was gone.

Hiro shook his head and chuckled. "Is it scary that Hajime actually knows what 'that fancy milk bread from that one store' means?"

 

* * *

 

"I'm getting surgery on the 15th!" Tooru announced happily, chomping on milk bread and beaming at Hajime.

The bite of egg salad sandwich in Hajime's mouth turned bitter, and swallowing was like trying to choke down a sponge. He had to take a huge gulp of water before he could respond.

"... surgery? _The_ surgery?"

"It's the only one, Iwa-chan."

_Don't say it oh god I can't keep my mouth shut_

"But. It'll be a miracle if you survive," blurted Hajime.

Tooru blinked. "I know," he said. Hajime looked away. He couldn't bear to meet Tooru's eyes, not now.

"You're upset," Tooru murmured.

"..."

"Iwa-chan, will you look at me?"

He didn't.

"Once," said Tooru, "you told me that I'd never be satisfied even if I reach my goal. It's true, you know." He made a sound that was half laugh, half sigh. Then, in barely more than a whisper: "I found you, and now I want more."

There was no air in Hajime's lungs, and at the same time there were far too many sensations for him to handle. His pulse had quickened, and he felt too warm while his hands felt too cold. The hum of the overhead lighting became deafening, and even though Hajime was sitting in his chair he still felt like he was about to topple over. He buried his head in his arms to fight the overstimulation—

—so he didn't notice Tooru slowly towards the edge of the bed, didn't realize what was happening until Tooru's legs were already dangling off the side and his arms struggling to push the rest of his body up to stand unassisted on his two feet.

For once, Hajime's instincts failed. He couldn't move a muscle, rush up to support Tooru and catch him if he fell. He simply stared in equal parts horror and awe.

"Besides." Tooru reached up with both hands, palms facing the ceiling, and looked down to wink at Hajime.

"You'll have your miracle soon."

Tooru snapped his wrists, and for a moment Hajime saw a rush of color in front of him: Tooru on the court, first in Seijoh's turquoise and white and then the national team's black and red, always wearing the number one on his back. The greatest setter anyone watching had ever seen, surrounded by thousands of screaming fans chanting his name.

And then Tooru slumped to the floor.

"Ow," said Tooru. "Heh, didn't think that part through..."

Without a word, Hajime helped him back into bed. With Hajime finally within reach, Tooru latched onto his shirt and pulled him close.

"Iwa-chan, say something."

Hajime took hold of Tooru's hand, gently uncurling each finger until Tooru loosened his grip.

With his eyes closed, Hajime croaked, "I'm sorry," and walked out the door.

 

* * *

 

_"I'm getting surgery on the 15th."_

With just those six words from Tooru, Hajime was forced to stare into the abyss that had threatened to swallow him whole ever since Tooru left school. That he thought he'd gotten away from, until now.

So Hajime ran.

Somehow, with the sound of rain drumming on cold concrete and the dusk barely illuminated by flickering streetlamps, he still noticed it: a soft, frightened mewing near a phone pole he'd just passed.

A tiny, shivering ball of wet, black fur, matted with blood, was all that registered in Hajime's mind before he scooped it up, hugged it carefully to his chest, and frantically tapped on his phone. He eyed the address that came up and sprinted back into town.

Hajime burst into the animal clinic, bringing a gust of rain and wind in with him. Not paying any mind to the sudden chorus of dogs barking and owners shushing, he ran up to the front counter holding the kitten with shaking hands.

The receptionist looked up at Hajime with a start, and for good reason. He was drenched from head to toe, gasping for breath as he braced himself against the counter to stay on his feet. "Sir!" the receptionist exclaimed, "Let me get you a towel and a hot cup of tea."

"P-Please..." Hajime gasped. His teeth were chattering. "Please help her first."

 

* * *

 

 Hajime hadn't even finished a cup of tea when the vet came looking for him.

"I didn't get here in time," Hajime breathed.

"I'm sorry," said the vet. "We did what we could, but she was very heavily injured and suffering from hypothermia."

Hajime nodded in a daze, not meeting the doctor's eyes. Somebody pressed the cash he held out back into his hands, and there were voices asking him questions he didn't really hear. He bowed to no one in particular and stepped back outside.

He headed towards home, cutting through the park by Seijoh to save some time. By the time Hajime realized his mistake, it was too late. The rain had stopped, and the meadow where he'd met Tooru glistened beautifully in the moonlight and the warm glow from inside the cafe. The memory of holding of the kitten in his hands, too-small and too-fragile, morphed too easily into the feel of Tooru's cold, delicate fingers against his own.

Hajime fell to his knees and heaved, the acrid smell and taste of bile rising as he emptied his stomach into the bushes.

"Are you Iwaizumi-kun?"

Hajime coughed, the familiar voice—a woman's—startling him. He wiped his mouth quickly, hoping the newcomer wasn't watching, and turned around.

"Coach, no, Hanada-san... ?!"

He peered up at the tall, young woman and felt an intense rush of deja vu. She leaned forward with her hands on her knees, then reached in her bag for a small towel and offered it to Hajime. Her caring smile, the look that somehow always said 'I'm not here to judge you, just to listen,' just like the time when she'd left Hajime in charge of practice to run an errand and came back to an empty gym and Hajime slumped in a corner, trying to hide the bruises on his legs.

"Do you have to get home for dinner? If not, want to keep me company while I wait for my date? He's stuck in a meeting for another half hour." She didn't have to say the rest, because Hajime had heard it from her so many times before: _you don't have to tell me anything, but I'm here for a while if you want to._

He gave her a weak smile and followed her into the cafe.


	17. Overlapping silhouettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Don't underestimate the depth of your feelings. Or his."_

The onslaught of tangled fears and anxieties attacking Hajime all afternoon retreated into a strange, hollow feeling that had nothing to do with his now-empty stomach. He followed his former coach around the cafe like a zombie, not really noticing or caring how long they went from table to table before she finally stopped.

"Oh, wait! Not that chair," she said, guiding Hajime to a different seat. "I need this one, to, see my boyfriend when he comes in."

Hajime shrugged. As soon as he sat down, a wave of warm air enveloped him, chasing away the damp in his clothes and the aches in his body. Leftover adrenaline made way for calm, thanks in part to the dimmer lighting in this area. Hajime looked around. It was less crowded over here, too, and _ah_. Realization hit him when he saw the heat vent at his feet.

Hajime scrunched his eyebrows at the coach. "You didn't have to—"

"I was so surprised that it rained today!" she replied, and took a sip of her hot chocolate.

Their conversation settled into an easy rhythm. She had plenty of questions for Hajime, all pleasant small talk, not too prying. Things like have you gone running in this park, it's so nice and is it true that the curry bread is really good at your school and are you sure all you need is that sports drink?

As they chatted, the fog started to clear from Hajime's mind. He was amazed at at how nice Hanada-san was being to a kid she'd coached for only one year before he ran away from her team. In Yamagata...

"Are you visiting someone in town?" Hajime asked.

"Oh right, you don't know. I live here now. Well, down the street."

Hajime's eyes went wide. He felt a slow chill creep up his spine when he processed what she just said. "You're not at Yamagata East any more? Your job, did they... did they _fire_ you?"

_Oh God I got her fired I got her fired I got her fired_

_I knew Mom's job was on the line, why didn't I think Hanada-san's would be too?_

_Was Coach Mizoguchi fired too?_

_Why did I make such a big deal about everything?_

Thoughts like these piled up until all Hajime could manage to choke out was, "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for... ?" The coach squinted at him. "Iwaizumi-kun," she said, all traces of her usual cheer gone from her expression. "What's going through that head of yours right now?"

"Just realizing that I was so worried about myself that I didn't even think about what that whole mess could do to your life."

A new train of thought dawned on Hajime, then. _Coaching at Seijoh is probably a pretty good job. The volleyball club is popular, and in a big private school. Mizoguchi-san probably didn't get fired._

_He and I both chose to leave._

_Did everyone think we didn't believe in Hanada-san any more?_

_Should I have stayed?_

Hajime was forced back into reality when he caught sight of Hanada-san's smile.

"Jeez, you haven't changed at all, have you? The weight of the world on your shoulders. First of all, no. I started looking for a new job a little bit after you told me you wanted to transfer here, and by summer break I was coaching for my old university team here in Miyagi. Plus, according to the administration at Yamagata, the real 'mess' that was affecting my job was the fact that I'm a woman in my twenties."

Hajime nodded. The parents involved in his incident brought that up a lot.

"It'd been that way since I was hired, long before you were on the team. I only got the job because I was naive enough to accept their rock bottom salary offer."

"But to the principal, there was no way I was or could ever be a capable coach." She paused. "Well. If that was the only problem, it could've worked out. But the terrible part was that it affected the team... we started one school year with balls that were so old, they'd go flat every day. Back then, I didn't understand why they kept rejecting my requests for new equipment."

"It took months for us to get just half a dozen new balls, and that only happened when other schools started talking how hard it was to play at our gym. Officially, I made the school look bad and the principal was kind enough to fix it for me," she explained with a wry smile.

"To know you can do something to help the team and realizing you're powerless..." Hanada-san said, full of sadness and regret. "Have you ever had that feeling?"

This was starting to hit a little close to home, and Hajime felt a dull ache in his chest. "Kind of. I mean, not with my team, but yeah. What are you even supposed to do when that happens? You know you can help. You want to help. But it's impossible. Something like that just feels so... hopeless."

 _Hopeless_. That single word brought back some of that empty feeling that had faded away during their talk.

"This might be a really cliched thing for a coach to say," Hanada-san replied, "and it might not even be the right answer, but the only way I did it was to keep trying to do my best. It helps when you have someone next to you, a friend, a teammate, in my case a colleague. Even though Mizoguchi-kun and I were strangers when he started at Yamagata, it made a huge difference for me."

"What if your best isn't good enough." Hajime countered. It wasn't a question, more like a statement of a painful fact.

"Remember Yoritaka-kun and Saito-kun?" Hanada-san asked.

Hajime was startled to hear their names. "Of course." It'd been a couple years, but how could he ever forget them? The only teammates who stood up for him...

"They both thought they failed you. And there were times when I felt the same way." Hanada-san closed her eyes. There was a hard, bitter edge to her voice that Hajime had never heard before. "Look at the results. We weren't good enough to keep you from getting mentally and physically hurt, to create a safe place for you to do what you love, to get you out of the situation that forced you to transfer."

 _Wait, what?_ Those words, that perspective... they shook Hajime to the core. _No, no, that's wrong, that's not how it was at all! How can they ever think that?_

Every word, every reassuring clap on the back, every 'of course I believe you.' All of that meant the world to Hajime.

"Iwaizumi-kun, you're the best judge of whether or not you're trying your hardest to help someone. That responsibility is yours to take and control. But as for whether that's 'good enough'? I don't think that's your decision to make."

Then, her usual smile returned, soft and kind. "Your actions do matter to those around you. And you might mean more to him than you know."

Hajime choked on a gulp of his drink.

"Hanada-san," he began cautiously. "What did you just say? I'm _pretty sure_ I didn't mention..."

"Oh!" She gave Hajime one mortified look before she covered her face with both hands.

"Hey, I'm not mad or anything!" Hajime tried to sound reassuring. "It's not a secret, I just didn't think talking about myself would be that interesting for you."

Only then did she dare to peek at Hajime through her fingers. She lowered her hands. "But you let me blab on and on about my crappy old job!" she whined. "I still worry about you, you know."

Hajime laughed _. She's like a different person when you catch her off guard._

"Jeez, okay, maybe next time then. But I still wanna know. _How_." He really wasn't angry, but he also didn't like being in the dark; that 'how' came out more like a growl than a normal question.

Hanada-san squeaked. "Okay, I'll confess! You're kind of intimidating now that you're past that awkward teen phase..."

"No wait, I'm not trying to—"

"Ohh, ratting him out feels weird," she whispered to herself. "But," she looked at Hajime, "I owe you this much. I know a little bit about you and your setter because my silly boyfriend goes from tough guy to gossiping old lady when he tells me about you. And I kind of guessed you were upset about his health today when you started talking about trying to be helpful and doing your best. I had those kinds of feelings when my mom was sick every day. Even now... I still do, sometimes."

Hajime was touched that Hanada-san really seemed to understand and rather relieved that it didn't involve a big, awkward interrogation. Still, he was missing something...

"Well, I guess you can see for yourself. Look behind you," said Hanada-san. "He just walked in."

Hajime whipped around in his chair. The front door was all the way across the cafe, but the culprit was easy to find. After all, the man was very tall, very blond, and has been Hajime's coach for almost three years.

"Well," Hajime jerked his thumb at Coach Mizoguchi. "That guy really has a big mouth, huh."

Hanada-san laughed, but that quickly faded into a guilty look. "It's my fault, too. I don't exactly discourage him. I really am sorry for not telling you sooner. And for bringing up your personal business out of the blue like that."

"No, it's, um. I have a lot to think about now. So thanks." Hajime scratched his head and looked away, embarrassed. "Actually, now that we're talking about Oikawa... if you have any advice, or thoughts, or really anything else that might point me in the right direction...?"

"Then, here's an important lesson I learned, Iwaizumi-kun. Don't underestimate the depth of your feelings. Or his."

 

* * *

 

 Hajime almost made up his mind after that. _Almost_.

"Dad, I'm leaving for a run." When Hajime saw the concern etched on his father's face, he added, "I'll be back before dark."

"Again? Didn't you just have practice?" The older Iwaizumi frowned. "I might not know anything about being an athlete, but I'm pretty sure resting is part of the whole package."

Hajime nodded. "I know. Sorry. I'll only do this for a few more days."

To be honest, Hajime didn't know if "a few more days" was all he needed. But he wasn't really worried about overworking himself, because his actual running time was very, very short. This was his current routine: he started from home, then headed to the hospital to take a few laps around the campus. Then, he'd sit on the bench by the front door, urging himself to just take a few more steps and that elevator ride up to Tooru's room. The same thing always stopped him, though: "What do I say to him?" After arguing with himself over and over, Hajime would finally head home.

But he really should've known, by now, that the universe wouldn't let him stay away from Tooru.

About two weeks into Hajime's "running" routine, he was on a blinding stretch of road facing the late afternoon sun. So he didn't recognize the large silhouette who just emerged from a side street.

That person turned when they heard Hajime's footsteps, and then waved with both arms high in the air. "Hajime-kun!"

Hajime stopped dead in his tracks and shielded his eyes. _Oh_. "Takeshi-san. Hi... it's good... to see you..." Hajime was telling the truth, but he was also stalling. This was his chance to find out how Tooru was without having to visit! But in the end, he couldn't admit to being too scared to see Tooru for the past couple of weeks.

"So you do it too!" Takeshi-san exclaimed, giving Hajime a hearty smack on the back.

 _"Oof,"_ Hajime grunted.  _What?_

"I knew it," the man grinned. "Wait 'til I tell Tamiko. And she said it was 'weird'..."

Hajime knew he'd somehow developed the dangerous habit of letting very, very enthusiastic people drag him around. That should probably change, but the Oikawa family would always have that power. Hajime was pretty sure there was something in his DNA that made it impossible to resist any of them.

So they headed to the hospital together.

Tooru's dad led Hajime into an unfamiliar building. But Hajime recognized something right away: the smell of rubbery, padded gym floor mats.

"Oh, they already started," said Takeshi-san. "Tooru's pretty amazing like this, don't you think?"

The man didn't seem to expect an answer. Not that Hajime could've replied, anyway, once he took a good look through the large window in front of them.

Other than the handful of cots in the corner covered with crisp, white sheets, the room was exploding in color. Those blue gym mats covered most of the floor. Huge, illustrated posters of joints and muscles lined the walls. There were hand weights like the ones Hajime himself preferred, the slip-resistant ones with yellow, blue, and orange grips. Neon pink and green exercise bands were tied to a pole and swaying in a nearby fan's breeze.

And then his eyes locked on the patient and physical therapist about halfway across the room.

It'd been so long since Hajime saw Tooru's eyes like that.

_(So long since I've seen Tooru)_

Startling blue and white flames, the hottest any fire could burn. It was the look Tooru had when anything threatened his team's chances for victory.

That determination and intensity, even when he was fighting alone.

_(Wait, why does he have to fight alone?)_

Tooru stood between two parallel bars, set much lower than what a gymnast would use. He gripped one bar with each hand, channeling all of his strength into his trembling arms to hold himself upright.

He dragged his foot forward in a tentative step. Hajime held his breath.

And then another. Tooru was clearly struggling, but his grin was unmistakable.

On his third step, Tooru's legs gave out. His dad and Hajime both lunged forward, then retreated with sheepish looks on their faces. They exchanged a glance that sealed an silent pact between between two men: to never speak of the time when they were half a breath away from charging headfirst into a window while spying on Tooru.

By the time they regained their composure, the physical therapist had already caught Tooru with practiced ease and was helping him into a wheelchair.

"Thank you," said Tooru's dad. Hajime was thinking the same thing—thank goodness Tooru was doing this with a professional.

_(I can't do that for him. But I can get him a bottle of water. Juice. A towel, even.)_

_(But I can't? Why can't I?)_

_(It would be so easy.)_

Hajime felt a firm hand on his shoulder.

"It was you. You brought Tooru back to us. Can you imagine that boy, stuck inside his head like he was? Tooru giving up on volleyball? The way he was... it was so... creepy. Like watching a bad play." Takeshi-san said guiltily.

In a not-so-distant memory, a furious Yahaba was accusing Hajime of not trying to help Tooru. After that came his own voice, weak and brittle:

> _Burning himself out by pretending to be happy, to have all the energy in the world. Everything we say and do still touches him, I think, but it doesn't stick. He told his parents that nobody needed to bother with the 'new' him. For now, he's trying to be the 'old' him, or something—_

"But as soon as you showed up in his life." Tooru's dad was saying. "How do I put this... You've been pulling him forward since the very beginning, before you even knew."

 _No, it was the other way around_ , Hajime wanted to say.

Takeshi-san looked through the window with enough intensity to make Hajime shudder. "And this time, the worst yet... if it was anyone other than Tooru's Iwa-chan, I'd never believe it," the man murmured to himself.

Hajime blushed at the nickname. "I didn't do anything," he insisted.

"You always did your best. I hope you'll understand, someday soon, what that has meant for Tooru... for all of us."

The man's voice shook. "This is something I've wanted to say to you for a very long time, now: no matter what happens, please accept every bit of gratitude I have to offer. Thank you, Iwaizumi Hajime-san, for bringing color to Tooru's bleak, gray heart."

The pair watched Tooru in silence.

 

* * *

 

With Interhigh prelims less than a week away, Hajime spent all of his breaks at school hunched over Coach Mizoguchi's notes, studying and adding his own notes with great care. Today, it was on Dateko's strategies.

Without warning, a hand thrust an envelope in Hajime's face.

"This is the only time I'll ever do this," Issei said, with an unspoken _or else_. Hajime was fine with not finding out what that might involve.

"Thanks?" Hajime said. Issei responded with an annoyed " _tch_ " and left without another word.

Hajime opened the envelope and pulled out a short note. 

 

> _Iwa-chan,_
> 
> _A letter has so much more impact, don't you think?_ _But I only have one thing to say._
> 
> _Are miracles not worth fighting for?_
> 
> _PS. I'm free on Sunday since you probably need some advice about Interhigh.  
>    
>  _

Hajime rolled his eyes. Volleyball advice, huh.

He already told his parents that he'd be out all day Sunday. Sunday, June 14th, the day before the beginning of Interhigh prelims and the day before Tooru's surgery.

 

* * *

  
Sunday morning.

"Ahem."

Hajime looked up from his hiding spot just outside the door to Tooru's room. She wasn't one of the nurses who normally worked in this wing. He put a finger up to his lips and gave her a pleading look. She winked and went inside.

"It's time to head back," Hajime heard her say.

"Byyyee, Tooru-san!" said a little girl. He was worried that she would give his position away to Tooru, but maybe the nurse would help him out with this too. 

"Oikawa-kun?" said the nurse, before she left. "Is that your boyfriend being stubborn out in the hallway?"

Hajime groaned.

"No," Tooru replied cheerfully. "He's what we call trash."

When the nurse came back into the hallway, Hajime tried to look disappointed, or menacing, or something. But the little girl following her said, "Thanks, Iwa-chan!" And gave him an adorable smile.

 _Hm?_ Oh well. He let it go.

"Congratulations, Iwa-chan," said Tooru, when he walked in. "You just won Rin-chan two cups of pudding, which makes you her new favorite person in the world."

"Wh-"

"Jeez. You weren't supposed to show up! I like the pudding here."

Hajime felt his will crumble a little bit. _Did he bet against me?_

A voice that sounded suspiciously like Yahaba's hissed, _What if he's lying?_

 _Oh. Right. How is this the first time I figured that out in time?_  Hajime stood firm.

"Why did you come," Tooru said to the blanket in his lap.

"I'm not running any more," Hajime replied.

"But you'll get fat, Iwa-chan."

 _So stubborn,_ thought Hajime. "You know that's not what I mean."

Even though Tooru was still looking down at his lap, and his hair hid part of his face, there was clearly a smile making its way to his lips.

"You made me say something embarrassing."

Those words. _'I found you, and now I want more.'_ Hajime didn't know why it took him weeks to realize what that meant. "I know. Are we even if I embarrass myself now?"

"No," Tooru said. He changed the subject. "Ready for tomorrow? It's your last Interhigh."

"Nope. Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"Not even a little. Wanna switch places?"

"Nah. I love you, but not _that_ much."

Tooru felt the room spin. "What. What. Did you just say."

"Or maybe I do." Hajime scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Except I don't really need surgery, so convincing these doctors would be hard..."

" _Hajime_ , is this some kind of _joke_ —"

 _Oh, my name_. Hajime knew he was toeing a dangerous line, then. But...

"It's not." He leaned in close to Tooru. "I don't need surgery and I love you."

"..."

Hajime tried to take deep breaths without looking like he was desperately trying to keep himself together. He backed off and took a seat next to Tooru's bed.

Tooru finally spoke. "... You're such an idiot."

"Yeah, I am."

"On a day like this. Who even _does_ that?" Tooru whined.

"I'm trash, right? I thought you knew." Hajime scooted his chair closer.

"Iwa-chan!" Tooru was nearly in tears, now. "This is serious!"

"Okay, sorry." Hajime cleared his throat. "Serious question, then. Can I kiss you?"

"Of course not," Tooru snapped.

 _Wow. Didn't even have to think for that one, huh_. Hajime had prepared himself for all kinds of resistance, but this still felt like someone punched him in the stomach.

Tooru took one look at him and shook his head. " _Obviously, Iwa-chan,_ " he drawled, like he was explaining an easy math problem, "It would feel like a kiss goodbye. So ask me again later."

Oh. _Oh._ For once, Hajime understood what Tooru was saying.

"And get that stupid grin off your face," Tooru mumbled. "It's making me happy and I won't have any of that nonsense."

Hajime laughed. "Don't look, then."

Tooru turned away with a "hmph." Without looking, he reached back with one arm and flapped his hand at Hajime.

"You have to hold my hand so I know you're not trying to sneak off. Since I can't see you."

 _So, so stubborn._ "I don't know, that looks pretty uncomfortable for your shoulder," Hajime observed.

"Shut up," said Tooru. "Stop being so difficult."

"What about this?" Hajime offered. He climbed onto the bed, shuffled forward until he was kneeling right behind Tooru, and wrapped his arms around him.

"Not trying to sneak off. Happy?" Hajime said into Tooru's hair.

"Maybe."

"So hard to please," Hajime said softly. His breath tickled Tooru's ear, which was now a brilliant shade of pink. "Just one more question, then. You have to say yes because you already rejected me once."

"So demanding," Tooru whispered. It didn't sound like a complaint.

Hajime let his forehead rest on Tooru's shoulder. He felt Tooru's fingers dance across his arms, tracing random swirls and shapes all over.

"Will... Will you come back to me?"

Tooru closed his eyes. "Yes," he breathed, and he meant it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: the next day, the aftermath, the letter, and a happy ending.
> 
> Edit: I was looking through some past chapters and found all kinds of craziness in there, like Hajime seeing Tooru nod when they were on the phone or Makki and Mattsun being inside and outside at the same time. If you are reading this, thank you for tolerating all of my silly mistakes and inconsistencies. 
> 
> Please look forward to the final chapter!


	18. Hearts come together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"A cruel boy told me to once again pick up my dreams. I already had enough. I already gave up. But you were still nurturing my withered heart. I was greedy, so I once again picked up my dreams._  
> 
> _Some day, I'll waltz with you." — Miyazono Kaori, Your Lie in April_

_Hajime dashed into the locker room, fighting the urge to slam the door shut behind him. There was still a chance they didn't see or hear anything. If that was the case, he would be home free._

_He managed to ease the door closed without a sound, silently thanking the spirit or greater being or whoever had graced their crappy gym with a door that didn't creak or resist. Now, the only thing left to do was to grab his jacket from his locker. He didn't even like wearing the thing, but the sleeves on his gym clothes and summer uniform were too short to hide the bruises blooming just above his right elbow._

_And after two weeks, his "I tripped and fell at practice" excuse was starting to wear thin._

_"Hey, I think he's in here!" a muffled voice shouted._

_"Iwaizumi! Come out here, you little piece of shit." This voice was close, too close, clanging and echoing inside the locker room._

You can take them, _a small voice hissed in his mind, like it did every time this happened. But as always, Hajime shot down that idea without hesitation. Raising a fist against a teammate was not and would never be an option. He only wished that they would think the same._

_Hajime closed his locker, bit his lip, and waited for the inevitable. A firm hand clamped down on Hajime's shoulder. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then turned to face his pursuers._

"Iwaizumi-san!"

Hajime cringed at the open palm aimed at his face.

But the palm landed gently on his forehead, cool and reassuring.

"I don't think it's a fever," said Issei, withdrawing his hand.

Yahaba released Hajime's shoulder to wave a peeled banana in his face.

"Eat," said the vice-captain. "You look terrible."

"Are you okay?" asked Takahiro. "You were just standing there and staring into your locker."

"Yeah," Kindaichi chimed in, "we thought something bad happened to Oi—ow! Hey! OkaysorryIforgotpleasestopkicking—" The first-year's plea was cut off by a loud, metallic _Bzzzzzt_ as Hajime's phone vibrated in his locker.

Everyone held their breaths. The team, without Hajime, had agreed not to talk about their former captain today... but Kindaichi had put words to the fear they all carried within them.

"OI! ALL OF YOU!" Mizoguchi stomped into the locker room, face red and pointing back towards the gym. "I said ONE person could check on Iwaizumi, not the ENTIRE—"

 _"Shhhhhhhhhh!!"_   The entire team shushed the assistant coach, who was so shocked that he backpedaled out of the locker room and into the gym.

There was heavy, overbearing silence. Everyone watched the captain swipe and tap his phone like it was the first time they'd ever seen someone use one.

And then Hajime rolled his eyes before starting to laugh.

"That guy, at a time like this..." Hajime shook his head with a fond but exasperated smile. It was like he was in a different world than his nervous and confused teammates.

"You guys, I think the captain's lost it," Watari hissed to his teammates.

Hajime gave the libero a flat look. "Here," he said, flipping his cell phone around for the team to read. "I think this is for everyone."

 **Oikawa Tooru:** Good luck today~! I believe in you.

 

* * *

 

The screen on Tooru's phone lit up.

 **Iwaizumi Hajime:** Don't worry about us  
**Iwaizumi Hajime:** Just try and be comfortable and rest until you have to go in  
**Iwaizumi Hajime:** But don't give the nurses a hard time  
**Iwaizumi Hajime:**  Try not to scratch your arm too much  
**Iwaizumi Hajime:** Be nice to your mom

Tooru laughed.

 **Oikawa Tooru:** Oh my god Iwa-chan just go play already  
**Iwaizumi Hajime:** And put your phone down once in a while otherwise you'll get a headache  
**Oikawa Tooru:** HAJIME  
**Iwaizumi Hajime:** Someone has to tell you these things  
**Iwaizumi Hajime:** But ok yeah coach is yelling  
**Iwaizumi Hajime:** I'll tell you all about the matches later okay?

 _But maybe you won't be able to_ , Tooru typed, then deleted it.

 **Oikawa Tooru:** Will you  
**Oikawa Tooru:** Will you come to the hospital? After  
**Iwaizumi Hajime:** Just tell me when they'll let me see you  
**Iwaizumi Hajime:** I'll come running as fast as I can  
**Iwaizumi Hajime:** Okay really gotta go. I'll see you soon  
**Oikawa Tooru:**  Yeah see you later

"Tooru. Tooru! What's wrong?" His mom had rushed over, eyes wide and hands trembling. Only then did Tooru realize he was crying.

He pulled his mother into a hug, gently reassuring her while sorting out his thoughts. Iwa-chan was always helping him remember things. His goals and dreams. Who he really was and who he wanted to be. What it meant to be a captain, a mentor, a teammate.

Because of Iwa-chan, Tooru remembered that what he thought might be a kiss goodbye and a final message could be promises for the future.

 

* * *

 

"You guys..." Kindaichi poked at the elaborate dish in front of him like he didn't believe it was real. "We did win, today, right? So why are we eating at a restaurant? And an expensive looking one, too?"

"That's a dumb tradition anyway," Watari replied, in between mouthfuls of rice. "Who says the coaches should only buy us food when we lose?"

The first year still looked confused. "But we still have matches tomorrow. And why are we the only customers?"

"Aw, come on," said Hanamaki. "Who cares? We won today!"

Watari gave Kindaichi a light punch on the arm and grinned up at him. "Yeah. You're really gonna complain about free food? Really, really delicious free food? Seriously, I'm gonna marry the chef here."

With the good meal and lively atmosphere, the pressure of today's matches and the stress of their teammate's surgery started to melt away.

But not for Iwaizumi, pale and listless, leaning against the wall beside him and clutching his phone. His dinner was untouched.

And not for Matsukawa, either. "Not much to celebrate," he muttered bitterly, "when the captain almost made us lose two wing spikers."

Most of the team either didn't hear what he said or was too busy eating to pay attention or care. But Yahaba slammed his palm on the table, making some of the dishes and silverware on the table clatter. A few people jumped in surprise. He kept his hand firmly planted on the table and leaned forward into the third-year's personal space.

"Matsukawa-san," Yahaba warned.

"Whoa, okay," Watari interjected. "We won, remember? So it's fine, right?"

Matsukawa didn't back down. "What if he got hurt? Or Kyoutani? Would it be fine then? Plus," he jabbed a finger at Yahaba, "why did _you_ even run that play when you knew Hajime couldn't handle it?"

"Guys." Iwaizumi spoke up, his voice hoarse from disuse. "Listen. I'm really sorry. This won't happen again, but if it does I'll take myself out of the match. Okay?"

That wasn't good enough for Matsukawa. "And you, Hajime—"

"Matsukawa," Yahaba snapped. " _Shut your goddamned mouth._ "

The third-year stood up abruptly, letting his chair tip over behind him. He grabbed a fistful of Yahaba's collar.

Oikawa's surgery weighed heavily on everybody's minds all day, but nobody had lashed out like this. And this was _bad_. Yahaba never addressed any of his senpais that way, even when he was doling out one of his infamous punishments. Matsukawa was one of the most soft-spoken people on the team. And one of the most patient, if dating Hanamaki was any indication.

The coaches stood, as did Hanamaki and Watari. They were all ready to stop the impending fight.

"OI!" yelled a voice from the back of the restaurant, "No fighting at the dinner table! Just eat your damn food." It was a vaguely familiar voice, not mean or malicious by any means. Somehow, the voice gave off the feeling of a loudmouthed neighbor who nagged everyone but also also played catch with you once in a while.

"What the—" Yahaba turned to look at the newcomer. 

Matsukawa smiled reluctantly, but sincerely, when he recognized who had scolded them. "He's still pretty good at making us stop fighting, huh," the third-year said, giving Yahaba a sideways glance.

The setter laughed. "At least he's not telling us to hug it out this time," he replied, pretending to shudder.

And just like that, the tension broke.

"Who is _that_?" Kindaichi whispered to Watari.

"Akao-san!" Watari exclaimed.

"Who else would I be, huh? And you," he pointed at Watari, "Glad you like my food but we're _definitely_ not getting married."

"You're the chef here?!" Hanamaki exclaimed.

Akao nodded with pride. "'Course I am. Better than having the manage the place. And Iwa!" he yelled happily, giving Iwaizumi a healthy smack on the back.

Iwaizumi didn't even flinch. He looked up at Akao, gave him a bland smile, said hello, and excused himself to the restroom.

"What's with him?" Akao asked, jerking his thumb in the direction Iwaizumi just went. "Looks like he just came from a funeral."

Watari nearly choked. At least the captain was out of earshot. "Oh man. Word choice. We need to tell you something..."

"Shit," said Akao, frowning at the explanation he just heard. "So how's Oikawa now?"

"That's the problem," said Yahaba. "Iwaizumi-san was expecting to hear from Oikawa-san's parents over an hour ago."

Something on the table lit up; Iwaizumi hadn't taken his phone with him.

Everyone stared at each other. Of course nobody was going to look at the captain's phone, but that didn't stop anyone from being painfully curious.

The team tried not to watch Iwaizumi return to his seat (but they did), and they tried to pretend his phone didn't exist (but they kept sneaking peeks at it). By the time Iwaizumi picked up his phone, the whole team dropped the act and waited in silence.

Kindaichi swayed to and fro in his seat, eyes glued to the captain, while Kunimi sat as still as a statue. Hanamaki and Matsukawa held hands underneath the table. Yahaba bit his nails for the first time since becoming a setter, and Kyoutani, who hadn't said a word all evening in favor of piling as much food as possible on his plate, was at least aware of the atmosphere and stopped eating. Watari had drawn up his legs onto his seat, hugging his knees to his chest. Both of the coaches had their eyes closed, Irihata with his hands folded in his lap.

But Akao was never really a patient man.

"Goddamnit Iwa, _is he okay or not?!_ " Akao demanded.

Yahaba let his head _thunk_ on the table. _This guy is hopeless._

Iwaizumi looked up from his phone and seemed surprised to be surrounded by people. His eyes were watery and his cheeks were marred with red blotches.

"I... um." Iwaizumi began with a shaky voice, but no other words came out. He rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm. Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Yahaba had seen Iwaizumi in this kind of emotional state before, but it was still painful to watch. Everyone else had only seen him as their calm and ever-steady captain, so this... was _gut-wrenching_.

"None of you," he whispered, but his voice cracked and he had to clear his throat a few times. 

" _None_ of you," Iwaizumi croaked, "will _ever_ tell that dumbass that I'm about to cry."

"Whoa!" Watari yelled, jumping away as Kindaichi slumped forward and faceplanted into his soup. 

"He... passed out," said the libero, prodding Kindaichi's shoulder with a chopstick.

"What Kindaichi meant by that was, 'Hooray!'" Kunimi explained, cleaning soup off of his friend's face with a napkin like he did this every day.

Akao produced an empty pot and banged on it (rather obnoxiously, but nobody cared) with a ladle. "More food for everybody! Time for a real party!" he cried, and dashed back towards the kitchen.

"That... was bad for my heart," Mizoguchi said, breathing heavily.

Irihata dabbed at his own forehead with a handkerchief and nodded sagely. "That can be remedied," he said, then turned towards the kitchen. "More beer for the coaches, Akao-kun!" the head coach called.

At the other end of the table, Yahaba was handing Iwaizumi a glass of water. "You're dripping snot on the table, Iwaizumi-san," he pointed out.

"Wipe your own nose before worrying about someone else," Iwaizumi grinned.

Matsukawa appeared, tissues in hand. "You guys... I'm sorry about earlier," he murmured. "I just don't want see more of my friends get hurt."

Yahaba nodded. "And I'm sorry I was rude. I just... today..."

Matsukawa put a hand on Yahaba's shoulder. Hanamaki saw the truce as an opportunity to squeeze the two of them plus Iwaizumi into a very awkward group hug.

When Akao reemerged with enough food for a banquet, Iwaizumi ate and drank and laughed as much as any of his teammates. When the night came to a close, they were all happy, satisfied, and ready to be unstoppable tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

"Oh my God," said Hajime, walking home with Issei and Hiro after their feast. "I think this proves that Tooru actually is invincible, but he's gonna be the death of me any day now."

"Interesting relationship dynamic," Issei deadpanned, earning a pinch from his boyfriend.

"Can you imagine," Hiro began, "how tonight could've turned out if..."

"Yeah. Yeah, I can," Hajime cut in. "Most nights since a few weeks ago, now."

His friends cringed. "Sorry," Hiro said, but Hajime shook his head.

"It's fine. Actually, I was thinking about what everything would've been like if I hadn't ended up on the team somehow. Or if you guys never came up with a plan to get me out of Yamagata. Sometimes I feel like I've gotten pretty lucky over the past couple of years."

"Luck... isn't the right word," said Issei, trying to contain a sudden bout of giggles.

Hiro, on the other hand, couldn't help it. "Hah! Oh man..." he cracked up, smacking Hajime on the back. "Yeah, I wouldn't call it luck."

"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Hajime asked. "And actually, would I even care or is this one of your weird, coupley things?"

Both of his friends still hadn't gotten over this mysterious joke. Hajime shrugged and was about to change the subject when Hiro said, "Oh yeah, I think you'd care. Ask Tooru, he's good with words."

 

* * *

 

**Epilogue, part 1: Moments in the spring breeze**

Tooru looked around the table: his mother, doing a crossword puzzle and sipping a cup of tea, and Hajime, reading something handwritten on fancy stationery.

"Iwa-channnn, I'm bored," he whined.

"'kay. Just a sec, let me finish this," Hajime replied, not looking up from what he was reading.

Tooru wasn't having it. " _Oooh_ , is that a confession? Does Iwa-chan have a _secret admirer_?" he taunted.

"Huh?" Hajime said, distracted. "Kinda, yeah. And definitely a confession."

That was _not_ the answer Tooru was expecting.

"Wh— bu— I—" he stuttered, before gathering his thoughts and switched to what he thought was a cool, dignified persona.

"Well, I'm happy for you, Hajime," said Tooru airily. No reaction.

"They must be very interesting to keep your attention like that," Tooru ventured again.

Hajime grunted.

Tooru peered at his mother for a clue, but she was just chewing on the end of her pencil and staring intently at her puzzle.

( _He's already mad at me,_ Hajime thought. _Better cut this short._ )

( _If I stay here, I'm going to start laughing and ruin it,_ thought Tooru's mom.)

"For the record," said Hajime, "I'm not mad."

Tooru felt his blood boil. So much for staying cool. " _You're_ not mad? _You_? _You're_ the one who's—"

"I'm not mad that you pretty much forged my signature." Hajime clarified.

Tooru was always the strategist, the mastermind behind their victories on the court. No matter the situation, he did research on everybody and everything. So he really didn't like not understanding any situation, let alone one involving Hajime.

"Why would I do that? And what does that have to do with anything?" Tooru asked cautiously.

Hajime flipped to another page of the letter he was reading. "I'm also not mad that you singlehandedly determined the course of my high school career. _And_ you made our friends do all the work." Hajime said.

Tooru was about to argue or make fun of Hajime for making up strange stories, but an unpleasant feeling was growing in his chest.

_Well, if the first year of high school counts... I guess I technically did those things?_

_Wait a minute._

"Wait a minute," said Tooru. "What are you reading?"

"Love letter," replied Hajime.

"I think I hear your father calling," Tooru's mom said to nobody in particular, and rushed back into the bakery with the most undignified snort Tooru had ever heard from her.

 _Well, good,_ Tooru thought. _I can't do stuff like this in front of her._

He got out of his chair to stand behind Hajime's seat, and of course the first thing Hajime did was put the letter face down on the table. But Tooru had expected that. He leaned down to wrap his arms around Hajime and started placing a trail of kisses from his jawline to his neck.

Hajime felt his face burn. It was rare for Tooru to initiate something like this. "Tooru, what are you doing," he chided. Or tried to, but he failed spectacularly. And then when Hajime felt Tooru's lips linger on his neck and then curve into a smile, he completely melted. He tilted his head back to enjoy more unexpected—but very, very welcome—attention from Tooru.

"I'm just... stealing that letter!" Tooru lunged for the sheets of paper lying unguarded on the table, a moment too quick for Hajime to block.

"A-ha!" Tooru crowed victoriously, sticking his tongue out at Hajime.

Hajime calmly took out his phone and scrolled to one of his photos. "Now I'm really glad I took pictures," he said. "Hey, this is my favorite part." Hajime read from his phone: "'I think I've loved you since the beginning, before I even understood what that meant. And—'"

Tooru knew the rest.

_And then when I met you for real, I fell in love with you more every time I learned something new about you... no. I loved you more with every moment I spent with you._

_..._

_Wait, why do I know this._

_Oh._

_Oh shit._

Tooru knew what he was going to see when he looked at the now crumpled sheets in his hand, but he didn't want to believe it. Maybe if he wished hard enough... yet there they were: pages of _his own handwriting_ , part of the letter Hajime was supposed to get if the surgery—

 _"MOTHER!"_ Tooru screeched. He grabbed Hajime by the wrist and dragged him into the bakery.

They found Tooru's mom hiding behind her husband in the kitchen. She saw the triumphant look on Hajime's face and giggled, although that faded quickly when she looked at her son.

"Ahem," Tooru's dad said. "This is a message from your mom. 'A mother's patience can only withstand a few thousand repeats of 'Should I tell Iwa-chan or not' before it runs out."

"... putting you out of your misery," she mumbled.

The way Tooru looked now suddenly made everyone acutely aware of the sharp knives within his reach. Hajime sighed, all too familiar with that murderous glare. The upside was that he knew exactly what to do. It was their pause button whenever they had a fight: Hajime tucked a piece of Tooru's hair behind his ear and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Where, this time?" he said softly.

Tooru seemed to actually deflate as his anger fizzled out. "The park," he grumbled. And he let Hajime drag him outside.

 

* * *

 

It was dusk, and they were stretched out on a blanket in the meadow by the cafe. Tooru was curled up on his side with his back to Hajime and would not budge when he tried to roll him over.

Hajime gave up. He took a deep breath and hoped Tooru was listening. "Look, first. I'm sorry for poking fun."

"And for conspiring with Mother." Tooru added immediately.

Hajime couldn't argue with that. "And for conspiring with your mother."

"Hmph."

"But hey, um." Hajime's tone changed to one tinged with uncertainty. Instinctively, Tooru's stubborness turned into concern; he rolled over to carefully observe Hajime while he spoke.

"Why haven't you ever told me any of this?" Hajime asked, gesturing to his phone.

Tooru frowned. He flopped onto his back and covered his eyes with one arm. "Obviously, Iwa-chan, because it's embarrassing!" Tooru snapped, a little annoyed that Hajime would even have to ask that. Didn't he understand how hard writing that letter was?

"I know, but..." Hajime paused. He was going to try and make it up to Tooru today by being extra nice, but he also had to get this off his chest first.

"Of course it's fine if there's stuff you don't want to tell me. But Tooru, there's _a lot_ in here."

Tooru flinched when he recognized the hurt in Hajime's voice.

"And when I try to guess what you're hiding, it usually goes horribly, horribly wrong," laughed Hajime, remembering several mishaps from when they'd just met.

Tooru heard what was hiding beneath Hajime's laughter and words: _Don't you trust me?_   Tooru had his own ego to protect, but making Hajime doubt the foundation of their relationship was absolutely unacceptable.

"It's _because_ there's a lot. Over such a long time. I thought there was already too much for you to forgive me, so..." For Tooru, it hurt to say this out loud, to admit to hiding so much from Hajime for so long. But part of him was relieved that everything was out in the open.

This time, it was Hajime's turn to look away. "Tooru," he said to the sky. "Is everything in here true?"

"Every word," Tooru replied without hesitation. "And those are actually all my secrets. Other than what I'm getting you for your birthday."

"Okay. And there's nothing to forgive. I'm not mad. At all," Hajime stated firmly. Then, in a much smaller voice, he added, "The only way I would be mad... well, more like sad, is if you weren't serious about. The stuff near the end. That you said was definitely true."

Tooru's breath caught in his throat, and he scrambled to get as close to Hajime as he could. He clutched Hajime's hand in both of his own. "Every. Single. Word. Always." _Please, please don't ever think otherwise._

The mixture of joy and relief in Hajime's smile made Tooru's heart ache.

Hajime leaned in until their noses were touching. "I'm so happy I met you," he whispered. "Or," he pulled back to grin at Tooru, "I guess I'm happy you _made_ me meet you."

Tooru scoffed but blushed at the same time. "You're never gonna let that go, are you."

"Of course not. Can I kiss you?"

"You really don't have to ask," Tooru replied, eyes already closed in anticipation.

"Well, you said no that one time..."

Tooru blinked. _Is he upset about that? Still?_

And then Hajime's lips met his.

There were times when their kisses were rough and needy and bruising, when each of them was desperate to lose himself in the heat of the other's touch. And then there were times like this: soft, sweet, and languid, with the occasional smile making its way onto their lips. They kissed like they had all the time in the world with each other, a precious, almost sacred feeling born from the fear of what-could-have-been. From knowing that they were so dangerously close to never having this time at all.

 

* * *

 

"Hajime."

"Hmm?"

"It's cloudy again, tonight."

"Yeah. You wanted to see the stars, right?"

"Mm. Do you think I can push the clouds away? If I kept trying?"

"I do. And you always have me, if you want help. ... But I still wish I could just do it all for you, sometimes."

"Hajime."

"What?"

"I think... you already did."

 

* * *

 

**Epilogue, part 2: The letter**

June 15.

To Iwaizumi Hajime-san.

Writing a letter to someone you saw just yesterday feels a little strange, but there's something... no, a lot of things. A lot of things that I need to tell you and confessions I need to make. This is the only way I know how.

First is a story that starts when we were eleven.

The first time I saw you was in sixth grade. You were clumsy and chubby and not very tall. And compared to Makki and Mattsun back then, not even very cute. But you were also the most amazing person I'd ever seen.

You were like the last piece of a puzzle—you fit perfectly with the rest, but you were also the most important person on the court. People cheered for you, laughed with you when you made mistakes, admired your energy and determination, and followed you to the very end. You were working hard, but you somehow had fun at the same time.

I was just a sickly and weak eleven-year-old kid who already gave up on having friends and being a part of... well, anything. But I wanted to experience firsthand the rush I had while watching you. To be you. To be next to you. To be the person you relied on every time you flew on that court.

I started playing volleyball because I wanted to be your setter.

I went to as many of your matches as I could. And I practiced until I got into one of the top junior high schools for volleyball, then practiced some more. You were in a different prefecture, but if our teams went to Nationals then I'd have a chance to meet you.

You know the next part: Shiratorizawa kept getting in the way. Plus, I hated that their team was looking down on the type of team you had—the type of team I wanted. I was obsessed with beating them, and before I knew it I was already choosing a high school. My first chance at meeting you was gone.

And then I found out Makki and Mattsun would be going to Seijoh. I recognized their names as your former teammates, so I thought that becoming their friend was the next best way to meet you. But I needed to be confident enough for that. I got contacts and let my hair grow out a little longer. I practiced smiling and flirting and learned out how to start a conversation with anybody so that I would know how to talk to you.

Soon, Makki and Mattsun told me about your situation at Yamagata East. I brought up the idea of a transfer a few times. At first, it was just my wishful thinking, but Makki was on board right away. Mattsun took a little more convincing. In the end, step one of my plan was complete: to make a real chance at meeting you.

After that, I needed make you notice me, get you on the team, and then set for you, Seijoh's new ace. I... messed this next step up. I swear I wasn't trying to hit you in the face that day in the park. The truth is, I stopped going to your matches in junior high to focus on getting to Nationals, and in those few years you... I mean, look at you. Do I need to say it? Anyway I saw you mid-serve and got distracted, so I missed. Well, hit. You in the face.

That was when I realized your personality was not what I expected at all, and not in a good way. You were grumpy and angry and not at all interested in anything I had to say. Worst of all, Makki said you weren't signing up for the volleyball club. I was scared that you really wouldn't join the team, and I didn't think I could convince you.

So I filled out a club application for Iwaizumi Hajime and hoped for the best.

Then I learned about the real you. You kept playing on the team even when it was painful. You faced all of your fears. You really, truly wouldn't hurt a fly. And even now, when I see you play, I feel the same as the very first time. Will you still feel the same about me now that I'm not here? I hope so. If not, I'll probably haunt you. And you can't run away! You said so yourself.

The final step was to make you my ace, the ace of the best team I could build. I needed Kyouken-chan, Kunimi, and Kindaichi, and they all delivered. I needed you most of all, and after years of chasing I finally caught up to you. At training camp... it was only practice, but playing our best together was everything I thought it would be and more. You and I were perfect on the court and I _know_ you felt it too. It was clear to me then: as soon as we figured out how to join six of us on the court as one, we would be invincible.

But then... you know what happened. Let's not get into that again.

After all, the real purpose of this letter is to make sure the last thing I say to you isn't a lie. I just sent you a text that said "see you soon," but if you're reading this then that didn't happen. And there were so many other times I kept secrets from you. But I swear that what I'm saying now is the complete, absolute, undeniable truth:

I love you. I think I've loved you since the beginning, before I even understood what that meant. And then when I met you for real, I fell in love with you more every time I learned something new about you... no. I loved you more with every moment I spent with you.

I love you so much. But I'll admit that I didn't really act like it.

I'm sorry I annoyed you all the time. And made you bring me books and games and milk bread.

I'm sorry for showing up at your house that one morning. I just really wanted to know more about you, and meeting your parents seemed like a good way to do that.

I'm sorry I kept calling you Iwa-chan. I wonder if you would've liked it if I called you Hajime all the time, not just when I'm angry. But I've been calling you Iwa-chan for at least six years now. Remember how my dad called you that when you met my parents?

Oh, Dad. I'm sorry for all of his baking puns. Really.

(Puns or not, do you think you could stop by the bakery and say hi to my parents once in a while? I know I'm probably asking for too much, but they really, really like you and I think you'd cheer them up a lot.)

I'm sorry for all the selfish things I've done just to be on the court with you. Just to be with you.

Thank you for staying with me, even when I tried to chase you away.

Thank you for believing in me, even when I didn't any more.

Thank you for finding a place for me in your heart and loving me back.

Thank you for everything.

 

Oikawa Tooru

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over! This AU has been in my head for so long that it feels a little surreal for this to end. But I hope you enjoyed the happy ending!
> 
> Thank you for giving this fic a chance!


End file.
